


Back to Black

by unholyseraphs (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Age Play, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Beating, Bottom!Cas, Bullying, Cocaine, Daddy Kink, Daddy!Cain, Depressed Dean, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Drugs, Dyslexia, Dyslexic Dean, F/F, F/M, Fights, Flirting, Gifts, Harassment, Homelessness, Jealous Dean, Jealousy, John!Cain, Kept Boy Castiel, Little!Dean, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Sexual Age Play, Oral Sex, Pining, Poverty, Prostitution, Rape Mentions, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Safewords, Sex Party, Sexual Harassment, Spanking, Starvation, Sugar Daddy, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Surgery, Teacher-Student Relationship, Threats, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threesome, Twink!Cas, Underage Sex, asexual!sam, bad bdsm, bottom!Dean, hooker!Dean, jealous!claire, online bullying, paid sex, sorta - Freeform, top!Cain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4664883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/unholyseraphs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester never meant to be a hooker, but sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Gosh, it's been a while since I've posted a chaptered fic on here. I hope you enjoy friends. 
> 
> Expect angst, also, check the tags often, I'll probably be adding or detracting. Thanks!

The blissful moments before the sun quite made it up over the trees to peer through sheer curtains were the moments Dean loved the most. They were always so beautiful and they were the times when his bed always felt the most comfortable and he was warm and happy. He would sigh, roll over, and curl around his pillow to sleep some more, because that’s what those moments called for.

 

However, now was not one of those moments.

 

“ _Dean_ ,” Sam yelled through the door as he pounded his fist on the wood.

 

Dean groaned and slowly peeled his eyes open. He was late, which never happened, since he was always up early to make sure breakfast was made, lunches were packed, and the housework could get started. “One day,” he growled to himself, glaring at the water stained ceiling. “Just _one_ day to myself, that too much to ask?”

 

“Dean!”

 

“I hear ya!” he snapped back, finally getting up enough to pull on pants and a t-shirt over his head, pulling the door open. “I’m sorry, I think I forgot to put the alarm on last night.”

 

Sam sighed and went downstairs with Dean on his heels.

 

“I’m _sorry_ , Sammy,” he whined as he went to dig through their freezer for some possible frozen waffles left over. There was one in the back and it was freezer burnt to hell and back. “Damn.”

 

“I’ll just eat cereal,” Sam sighed as he pulled a box down from the top of the fridge.

 

“What about the others?” Before Sam could answer, Dean was running back upstairs to knock on Claire’s door. He could already hear the angry emo music; it was not going to be a good day. “Claire?” he said, poking his head in.

 

“ _Hey_!” she squealed as she covered up her bra and chest. “ _Knock_ , fuckface!”

 

“I did knock!” Placing a hand over his eyes, Dean tried not to sigh or roll his eyes too much. “I’m sorry I’m late with breakfast, it’s a cereal day today, alright?”

 

“Of _course_ it is,” she said darkly.

 

“I’m _sorry_.” He quickly ducked out of the room before she could throw something at him and then he was going down the hall to knock on Adam’s door.

 

“What?” came the muffled response.

 

“Breakfast and school time, Kiddo,” Dean replied, which only earned him a glare as Adam stormed out of his room.

 

“You’re not my dad,” Adam snapped as he rushed down the stairs, almost tripping over Claire on the way.

 

“Watch it!” Claire snapped as she walked over to the bathroom, which Dean happened to be almost in front of. “You gonna move or do you want me to pee all over the floor like the dog Sam wants but you’ll never get?”

 

He clenched his jaw and slowly stepped to the side, trying not to overreact or be overly angry at her. She was sixteen and had all of those female hormones going on in her system, but he’d been awake for roughly ten minutes and was already regretting the decision to be awake and out of bed. “Sorry, Your Highness,” he said coldly.

 

“Whatever, Dean.” The bathroom door slammed in his face.

 

With gritted teeth, Dean slowly spun on his heel and walked down the hallway to the last bedroom to knock on the final door. Maybe if he was lucky Jesse would actually talk to him and not just silently stare like usual. “Jesse?” he called with a light knock.

 

There was some shuffling and then the nine year old boy appeared at the door, looking up at him with wide eyes. He didn’t say good morning or hello or any kind of greeting. As usual, he just stared.

 

Dean slowly knelt down to his level, so they could be eye to eye. “Mornin’,” he said with a smile. “Sleep well?”

 

Jesse shrugged, but still, not a peep.

 

“Okay, look,” Dean timidly reached to touch Jesse’s shoulder, but the boy pulled out of his touch before he could. He dropped his hand and his head, ready to give up, but he couldn’t give up. It wasn’t right or fair. “Jesse, I’m _really_ tryin’ here. Your… Look, I know you want your Mom to come back, okay? I get it. I wished mine woulda came back, too, but you’re here now-.”

 

“Mother will come back,” Jesse replied, which almost made Dean startle. He’d hardly heard the boy speak, not even a hello when he’d brought him home. “Or Dad.”

 

Dean gritted his teeth. John Winchester had left him high and dry with his rag-tag group of illegitimate children a long time ago. Sam and Adam were almost the same age, with Sam a senior in high school and Adam a junior, it was frustrating to think that his father had cheated on his mother so early on. But he had.

 

They hadn’t even meant to meet Claire, that had been accidental.

 

She’d shown up on their doorstep with a DNA test as she’d searched for her biological father after her mother had had a mental break and the man she’d called father her whole life had left them. Dean was fairly certain that his father had more kids out there, just waiting to be found or to show up on his porch stoop.

 

"Dad isn't coming back," he said, which was probably cruel and mean to say to a nine year old, but it was the truth. "And if he doesn't it'll be because he rant outta money and wants ours." 

 

Jesse glared and walked around him without another word. Dean sighed and slowly stood up, tiredly walking toward the bathroom to knock on the door. “Claire, are you coming or not?” he called.

 

“Ew,” she replied as she pulled the door open, giving him a nasty glare. “We’re related, moron.”

 

“Oh- _Jesus_!” Dean covered his face at the implication. “Go downstairs and eat your fucking breakfast, that is _not_ what I meant! You’re too young to be thinking about that anyway.”

 

“No I’m not,” she said with a laugh as she headed downstairs.

 

Dean sighed heavily and leaned back against the stained wall, wishing the house didn’t look like shit. It was the only one he could barely afford. He wanted a better house with more room so he could have an actual bedroom and not be stuffed in what had used to be a closet, but the kids needed bedrooms more than he did.

 

“I said _give it back_!” Claire screeched as Dean walked down the stairs.

 

“Whoa, whoa, _whoa_!” He held up his hands and went to break up what was going on. “What the hell is going on, huh?”

 

Claire glared at Adam and pointed to the notebook he had in his hands. “That’s mine, he won’t give it back.”

 

“Adam.” Dean held out his hand. “C’mon, give it back.”

 

“She’s been writing _porn_ in it,” Adam said as he handed it over to Dean. “It’s gross, you should read it.”

 

Claire made a grab for it, but Dean pulled back to open it and skim some of the writing. The terms _cock_ and _pussy_ stood out so fast, he felt his face turn red. The dreaded teenage glare was now on _him_ , so before he could read any further, Dean handed the notebook back.

 

“ _Thank_ you,” she snapped as she stuffed the notebook into her backpack. “For your information, it’s _fanfiction_.”

 

“Okay, okay, did you guys get your breakfast?” Dean asked as he went to quickly try and make everyone lunch. They were extremely low on food, but he didn’t have enough cash to give everyone for school lunches.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” came a collection of groans.

 

“Good.” Dean pulled out the paper bags, bread, and peanut butter to make sandwiches all around. “Okay, um…” He slowly did a little spin to look for something else to give them to eat.

 

“You might wanna go grocery shopping,” Claire said, sounding annoyed. “It’s your _job_.”

 

“I know, I know…” He ran a hand along the back of his neck, feeling the stress already pressing into his head. He’d have a migraine soon enough. “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy this week-.”

 

“Yeah, with your _girlfriend_ ,” Adam snapped.

 

“Hey-.” Dean glanced back at them. They all looked angry, even Sammy, who was usually on his side. Okay, so he’d been spending a _lot_ of time with Cassie, trying to fuck his stress away. Last night had been another late night and he’d forgotten to run to the store with what little cash they had. “You’re telling me I don’t deserve to go out and….” He trailed off.

 

“You done?” Claire asked.

 

“Yeah, I’m done,” he grumbled back, finally producing some stale chips and trying to give everyone a fair share, but Adam ended up with less than Claire, and _that_ caused a fight. “Outside!” He pointed to the door. “Battle it out on the front lawn before the bus, go, go.”

 

Sam took his lunch bag and glared at him on the way out. “Store, Dean.”

 

“ _I know_!” he yelled, fed up with being told how to live his fucking life by a bunch of teens. Immediately, he felt guilty and tried to run after Sam to apologize, but he was already halfway to the bus and it was waiting on them. Again.

 

He slumped back against the back door and looked up at the sky. “One day, too much to ask for, huh?”

 

Of course, there was no reply, which Dean supposed was good since if God started talking to _him_ , it’d be a mental break, not a divine intervention. Instead, Dean pulled himself back together to head inside, take a quick shower, pull on some clothes that didn’t smell too bad, and head out to work. He was probably late, but hopefully Ellen would be understanding.

 

* * *

 

 

“Fired?” Dean stared at Ellen as if she’d lost her mind. “But- Elle-...” He trailed off, unsure of how to even beg her for the job back. “The kids…”

 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” she said, looking guilty and sad. At least she really did _sound_ sorry. “I know you need this job, but I also need someone who will show up to work _on time_ everyday and not constantly be calling off for one reason or another.”

 

Dean stammered and felt like the world was going to end any moment. Without his job as a dishwasher, they were _really_ fucked. He barely made enough to pay for rent and everything else, and he couldn’t go on unemployment _again_. He was only twenty-six; this should have never happened to him in the first place. He should have graduated high school, gone to college, been living his _life_.

 

But no.

 

He was stuck raising ungrateful teenagers and giving up his whole life for them.

 

And now, he was going to disappoint them again.

 

“There’s _nothing_ I can do to make you reconsider?” he asked, his eyes glued to the floor, feeling helpless.

 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Ellen shrugged a little. “I wish I could keep you on, but I can’t just because I feel sorry for you.”

 

“Right.” Locking his jaw and shutting the doors on his emotions and feelings, Dean stood up and walked out of the office stiffly. It had been stupid of him to think he could hold down a job _and_ be a parent _and_ have a social life, just because the Harvelles were family friends.

 

Jo called his name a few times as he walked out, but Dean just stormed out to his car and climbed in. Muscle memory kicked in, while his mind wandered to further self-deprecation. It was easy to hate himself, when he was such a fucking failure. For God’s sake, he hadn’t even made it passed the tenth grade before dropping out of school. His education before then had been shitty and he couldn’t read much, not because of his lack of a reading level, but because words were difficult. The letters liked to jump around on him and he was constantly writing things wrong.

 

He always had Sam write letters or official documents so he didn’t fuck something up.

 

Soon, Dean found himself outside of Cassie’s house and he sighed. Part of him wanted to go inside and fuck her as hard as possible before calling it off, but that wouldn’t be fair to her, even if it was going to be hard cutting his dick off cold turkey. He supposed it was time to go back to his magazines and bottle of lotion. Steeling himself, Dean climbed out of the car and knocked on the door a few times, before she finally answered, looking way too happy to see him.

 

“ _Hey_ ,” she said with a huge smile. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

 

Dean gulped and dropped his eyes, feeling ashamed. “Look, Cassie, what we got… it’s _good_ , but uh, it’s cuttin’ into my time being there for the kids, and so I gotta… I mean… ya know…”

 

She paused and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Are you serious?” she asked.

 

“I’m _sorry_.” Dean glanced up at her shyly. He felt like a schoolboy getting in trouble for dumping his crush. “I like what we have, I just can’t right now. Besides…” He glanced around and shrugged. “You deserve someone better than me anyway.”

 

“You're right,” she snapped coldly, even though there were tears in her eyes. “I _do_. I deserve someone who doesn’t just drop me for some bullshit reason. You know, Dean, if you’d needed help around your house, I wouldn’t have said _no_. Get off your high horse and _accept_ someone’s help before the stress kills you.”

 

Dean opened his mouth, but she slammed the door in his face, and he flinched. Pulling away, Dean walked back to the car and slowly drove back to the house, unsure of what to do. He knew he needed to kick his ass into gear and find a new job before the kids realized he was, once again, without an employer. But he felt lost and tired, all he wanted to do was climb into bed and not get up ever again.

 

 _But you can’t, you’ve got kids countin’ on you because their parents quit on them a long time ago. Someone’s gotta look out of ‘em, and that’s_ you _. So, put your mouth to good use Winchester._

 

Dean gulped and slowly went inside to make a phone call. His entire life he’d promised himself he would never lower himself to selling _himself_ , but desperate times and desperate measures.

 

“This is Crowley,” came the smug British accent.

 

Dean shuddered at the thought of working for _Crowley_ , the biggest fucking pimp in the city. THe only reason he even _knew_ the bastard was because his father had ordered his whores all the damn time. “Crowley,” he spat back.

 

“ _Dean_?” Crowley chuckled. “Need some company, boy?”

 

“No,” he said, glad he was alone in the house. “I need a job.”

 

There was a long pause before Crowley finally replied, sounding much too happy about the prospect, “You know this means late nights.”

 

“Yeah,” he said bitterly. “I know.”

 

“Good. Then meet me at my office tonight at nine. No excuses. If you aren’t there, consider this conversation null.”

 

“I’ll be there.” He hung up and ran a hand over his face, disappointed with himself. Crowley paid his whores good money, though, which he supposed would make it worth it. If he got lucky maybe he’d end up with some of Crowley’s high rolling clients.

 

 _You_? You? _You with a high roller? Ha!! You’re an uneducated loser. No one that rich will want you in their backseat. They’ll take one look at you, write you off as having lice and fleas, and then move on. Trust me._

 

Running a hand over his eyes, Dean stood up, and dragged himself upstairs to take a bath to scrub his entire body until he bled.

 

* * *

 

 

Crowley was smirking as soon as he walked into his “office”, which was nothing more than his favorite bar. “Ah, Dean Winchester, never thought I’d put you on my payroll.”

 

Dean didn’t say anything, he just stood still, and hoped he looked decent enough for someone to pick him out for an evening of fun. “I’m here, so let’s just do this.”

 

“I have a few clients interested in a young man of your age,” Crowley replied smartly. “Both men.”

 

He jerked his head up in alarm. “Whoa- _what_? No, no. I don’t swing that way-.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Crowley snapped. “You’ll pleasure them both tonight and they’ll pay you a pretty penny for your pretty mouth to suck their pretty cocks, do you understand?”

 

His face began to turn beet red.

 

There had been a few times in his life where he’d considered sleeping with a man. Once had been when he’d had a huge crush on one of the football players in one of the many high schools he had frequented as a kid. He’d wanted to wrap his mouth around that kid’s dick almost as much as he’d wanted to rail the entire cheerleading squad into the bed, but he’d never acted out the strange fantasy. The second time had happened when he’d been twenty-one, drunk, and checking out an older man in a suit. He’d dismissed the thought due to the alcohol in his system.

 

“You ready?” Crowley asked.

 

Dean shrugged and tried not to spit in Crowley’s face and call the whole deal off. “Yeah.”

 

“ _Good_.” Crowley gestured at a man at the back of the bar. “That’s your first. Don’t give them your real name.”

 

“I _know_.” Dean rolled his eyes before going to walk over, but Crowley snatched onto his coat. “What?”

 

“Coat off,” Crowley snapped.

 

“Are you-. Fuck.” Dean shrugged out of his leather jacket and pressed it into Crowley’s hands. “I don’t get this back, I’ll shoot you.” He meant it too.

 

“Yeah, yeah, have fun, Muffin.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Dean took a deep breath, and began to walk over to the table, feeling completely naked. The jacket was gone and he’d only worn a tight t-shirt and a pair of jeans. No overshirt, no plaid, nothing that marked him as Dean Winchester. He’d even mussed up his hair before coming into the bar.

 

The man sitting in a booth was handsome, Dean had to admit that much. He was older, with gray streaking in his long hair and beard, but he looked healthy. He was overdressed, in his well cut suit, complete with a kerchief in the breast pocket. He looked too expensive to be sitting in such a shitty bar, but he supposed even the rich wanted ass for pay.

 

“Uh, hi,” Dean said awkwardly as he sank down opposite the guy. “I’m Dean- I mean-.” _Fuck_ , he’d already fucked up.

 

The man smirked a little and sipped on his scotch. “Dean, hm?”

 

“I-...” Dean sighed and shrugged. “Yeah,” he replied, fed up already. “I’m Dean.”

 

“Cain.”

 

He snorted and then realized the guy was _serious_. “Cain? Like- seriously?  Jesus, your parents must have had a sick sense of humor. You got a brother named Abel too?”

 

“I do,” Cain said with a nod.

 

“Well, fuck, man.” Dean shrugged and went quiet. How did one make small talk with someone he was going to give head to for cash?

 

“So,” Cain said slowly. “Crowley told me that this is your first night.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Good. You haven’t been tainted before by some other man, then.”

 

Dean bristled and glared at the table. “Nope, I haven’t, Sir.”

 

“Mmm, he has manners and good looks, I like that.” Cain finished off his drink and set the heavy glass on the table lightly. “Let’s go to my car, then.”

 

“Whatever you want. You’re payin’ for it.” Dean shrugged and when Cain stood up, he did too, following Cain out to a fancy Mercedes. “Nice wheels.”

 

“Thank you.” Cain opened the door and Dean slowly slid in, feeling too poor to be inside such a nice vehicle. The seats were leather and when Cain turned the car on, he saw that there was a button to heat the seat up.

 

“ _Fancy_ ,” he said with a low whistle.

 

“Do you like cars?” Cain asked as they drove away from the bar.

 

Dean gulped, wondering if going somewhere was normal, but he supposed it had been worked out with Crowley beforehand. They pulled into a crappy motel that was by the house. Oh yeah, it’d been worked out beforehand. “Uh, yeah, I do,” he finally said as they got out and began to walk toward a room.

 

Cain opened the door and then gave him a little push inside, making him startle and feel on the defensive. “Take your clothes off, Dean.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Dean slowly started to strip out of his shirt, jeans, boxers, and shoes. The tennis shoes were on their last leg and he was glad the room was mostly dark so Cain didn’t seen how dirty they were, and how there holes in the bottoms. Dean gulped as Cain circled him and then he walked over to flip on a dim lamp.

 

“Hmm…” Cain looked him over, his eyebrow raising and making Dean’s skin turn cold. “You need to be shaved.”

 

“Sh- _what_?” Dean asked, his voice raising a bit. “Okay, I was told I was gonna go down on you… what the fuck did you and Crowley agree to?”

 

“I paid for the evening,” Cain replied. “The works.”

 

“The… the works?” Dean gulped and felt his dick shrivel. “Like, ass, mouth, the whole deal?” When Cain nodded, Dean almost bolted from the room, but then he remembered why he was doing this. “Right, okay, whatever.”

 

Cain walked up to him and tilted his chin up, craning his neck back a little. “Don’t worry,” he said with a little smile. “I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re paying me to enjoy it.”

 

“Then you’re doing an _awful_ job.” Cain began to back him up until Dean felt his bare skin touch the wall and he jerked. “I prefer my boys shaven.”

 

“Look, I ain’t about to shave my face for you-.”

 

“Not here.” Cain ran a hand over Dean’s jaw. “ _Here_.” His hand trailed down his body until Cain was cupping his dick and balls in his palm. He gave him a squeeze and Dean whimpered at the little pain and pleasure it brought him.

 

“You want me to… I mean…” Dean glanced down at the happy trail and mess of pubic hair he had downstairs. He definitely didn’t groom, but no one had ever complained in the past. “ _Really_?”

 

“It makes oral sex much more pleasant,” Cain replied. “For both of us.”

 

Dean sighed and glanced at a closed door that must have been the bathroom. “Look, man, you’re gonna have to just _deal_ tonight, alright? I ain’t about to let you shave me in some dingy bathroom in a hotel that pays by the hour. That just sounds like an STD or venereal disease waiting to happen.”

 

Cain looked displeased for a moment but then he pulled back and walked over to where he had a bag sitting on a chair. “Get on the bed, hands and knees.”

 

Gulping, Dean walked over to obey and do as he was told. God, he hoped the old man was a quickshot.

 

He waited on the bed for so long that his arms and legs began to ache. Was that Cain’s game? Was he going to make him wait until he begged Cain to come over and fuck his ass?

 

“We doin’ this or not?” he asked, unable to bring himself to _beg_. He wasn’t a beggar. Never had been, he wasn’t about to start now. There was some movement and then Dean yelped at the sharp pain striking across his ass. He recognized the distinct sound of a belt being undone. “Hey-.”

 

“Be quiet, Dean,” Cain said, sounding so _commanding_ , it made him shut up.

 

However, he wasn’t quiet for long.

 

He was soon screaming as Cain spanked his ass in quick succession with the belt. The pain ran up his spine and down his thighs as the leather struck his flesh over and over. The backs of his thighs and ass grew hot quickly and he just knew there would be welts for days. Tears were falling down his face and he tried to keep the choking sounds back, but this was so damn familiar.

 

John had done the same thing to him his entire life. Beating him with bets, bottles, and fists.

 

The pain faded a little as Cain came to a dead stop and then he felt gentle hands run up his back and he was surprised to feel Cain help him sit up on his knees a little, so they could look at each other.

 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, trying to wipe his face. “I’m sorry- I’m bein’ a pussy, I’m sorry. It’s cool, don’t stop- it’s fine-.”

 

“Dean,” Cain said, cupping his face a little. “Do you want to stop?”

 

“N-no. Just keep going, beat me up, it’s fine. I ain’t what you want-.” Dean shut up when Cain pressed his fingers lightly along his mouth.

 

“Crowley told you nothing, didn’t he?” Cain sighed and sank down on the bed to sit next to him. “Here, lie down.” He patted his lap and Dean frowned, but then he was soon lying on his stomach with his head in Cain’s lap. Soothing hands began to pet and massage his scalp soon after.

 

“He just told me I was gonna blow ya-.”

 

“I _told_ him to explain what you were getting into- I thought your petulant attitude was due to the play.” Cain sighed heavily. “It is difficult for me to find someone willing to take on what I enjoy.”

 

“So, you just pay hookers to do it?” Dean asked.

 

“I asked Crowley if this was something you would be comfortable with… Being punished this way… He said of course, that you would enjoy it.” Cain continued to pet his head and Dean felt his body relaxing. “I should not have believed him and I am sorry for hurting you.”

 

Dean gulped and nuzzled Cain’s lap a bit. “Hey, that’s not your fault, man. Crowley’s a dick… and it’s not you- I just- I got… I mean…” Was it okay for him to just spill his guts?

 

“Go on,” Cain encouraged him with some more petting. If he could have purred, he would have.

 

“My dad used to beat me,” he whispered, staring off out the window which was mostly covered with gross curtains. “It was the belt, that really… I mean- he used to take his off and beat the hell outta me with it.”

 

“I didn’t know,” Cain muttered, sounding truly torn that he’d hurt Dean. “I would not have done it if I’d known.”

 

“Hey, it’s cool man…. There anything else I can do? For ya?” Slowly, he began to sit up, wincing at the pain in his backside. “I mean, I’ve never… _blown_ a guy before, but I know how it feels, so…” He shrugged once.

 

Cain smirked a little and gestured for Dean to go ahead. Blushing, Dean ducked back down close to Cain’s lap and began to undo the man’s fly, blushing at the dark curls along Cain’s base. He was well groomed and trimmed, which was oddly arousing and making Dean’s cock stir. He also smelled nice, which was better than some men, Dean was certain.

 

Gulping once, he took Cain’s cock in hand and finally dared to dart his tongue out to lick the head. He was uncut, which was only hotter in Dean’s mind. He’d always wished his dick hadn’t been circumcised, but his parents had gone ahead and let it happen. Sam had lucked out on _that_ one-

 

 _Dude, don’t think about your brother while you suck a dude’s dick_.

 

Clearing his throat a little, he opened his mouth and went ahead and tried to take as much in as possible, which resulted on him choking instead. The coughing came after and he had to sit up, looking embarrassed. Great, this night was going to go so well, Cain would get his money back and Crowley would probably let some bigger guy rape him without lube.

 

“It’s alright,” Cain said, going back to petting the back of his head. “Slower, don’t worry about taking everything in at once. This isn’t a pornographic movie.”

 

Dean blushed, nodded, and went back down, this time only taking Cain’s head into his mouth. Giving an experimental suck, Dean let his mouth get wet and he sucked and drooled down Cain’s dick, to slick him up, so his hands could do the rest. He was clumsy and he almost bit Cain more than once, but eventually, Cain groaned and told him he was going to come, so Dean yanked back and ended up with a faceful of jizz instead.

 

Cain chuckled and told him he was a _good boy_.

 

That sent real shivers down his spine and a throb in his dick.

 

“Shit,” he whispered, feeling his face heat up.

 

“Did you like that, hm?” Cain asked, petting him some more.

 

“Uh- yeah- I guess I did…” He blushed some more and sat up, realizing his face was covered in cum. “Can I go clean up?”

 

“Yes, hurry back.” Cain gave him a light push and Dean hurried to wash up in the bathroom, glancing down at his cock, which was at attention and _throbbing_. The good boy comment had left him needy and wanting. It was just so dirty.

 

When he came back, Cain was shrugging out of his jacket and Dean licked his lips hungrily. Okay, so maybe he had a thing for older men.

 

“Does the good boy want a reward?” Cain asked lightly, sounding so casual, as if they were talking about the weather. Dean found himself nodding. “Then lay down on your stomach and behave.”

 

Ducking past Cain, Dean stretched out on the bed, trying to spread his legs, but then Cain was doing it for him and he felt the beard rub against the back of his thighs, which were still sore, but now he tingled with anticipation. Cain’s lips brushed against his hole and then he kissed it.

 

“Fuck-.” Dean gulped and he shut up, unsure of he was allowed to speak. “Sorry…”

 

“Shhh.” Cain chided lightly, his tongue darting to lick against Dean’s rim.

 

He _whined_.

 

Whined. Like a cat in heat. When Cain’s tongue sped up, Dean was moaning into the pillow and trying not to rut against the sheets. He’d seen a rimming video once, when he’d delved a little too deep into a porn website. He’d jerked it off so hard that night, his vision had almost gone white when he’d finished.

 

Now, he was getting the real thing and Cain knew exactly what he was doing.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he started to pant, unable to help it. “Fuck!”

 

Cain chuckled and kissed his rim again. “Say it, Dean,” he muttered, biting his ass lightly. “Say Daddy.”

 

Dean whimpered and realizing his cock was dribbling precome on the bed and smearing along his stomach. He’d felt that desire since the moment Cain had called him good boy, but he’d felt weird about it.

 

“Say it,” Cain repeated, his voice lower, back to that commanding tone.

 

“Daddy,” he panted. “Daddy, _Daddy_.”

 

“Yes, good.” Cain spanked his ass once, but it was light and his palm was soon to rub the pain away. “Such a good little boy you are.”

 

He whined again, louder this time, breathing hard as Cain returned to licking and giving him serious beard burn. “Daddy,” he whimpered, his toes curling dangerously. “Daddy, I’m gonna make a mess.”

 

Cain growled and shoved his tongue in. Dean cried out and came, making the promised mess on the sheets and his stomach. When Cain pulled away, he was left feeling empty and he could feel his hole clenching and unclenching, desperate for something else to fill him.

 

“Daddy,” he repeated, feeling exhausted and ready to sleep.

 

“Are you tired?” Cain asked, his hands rubbing his back now. He nodded sleepily. “May Daddy fuck you anyway?”

 

“Mhm.” Dean nodded and then he felt Cain’s cock rub against his hole, which was wet and sloppy. He gasped when Cain began to press in; it was big and there was some pain in the stretch, but Dean figured he deserved that much. He wasn’t what Cain wanted after all.

 

Cain groaned a little as he started to thrust healthily into Dean, ramming harder and harder, until the entire bed began to knock against the wall. Dean panted and stared at the clock, which told him it was almost ten. The kids were hopefully in bed, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d left them alone with a hurried apology, playing it off like he was picking up extra shifts at work to help pay the bills.

 

Some tears leaked out of Dean’s eyes as he finally realized he was a hooker.

 

Cain was fucking him hard and fast because he was a hooker.

 

A prostitute.

 

Someone who gained money from sex.

 

He could go to jail if caught. If he went to jail, the kids would be put into shitty foster homes. Dean gulped and moaned a little when Cain cried out loudly and slammed him once. He must have came.

 

“What a good little boy,” Cain praised, rubbing his back. “Leaving Daddy _very_ satisfied.”

 

Dean hoped the tears weren’t visible. “You’re welcome, Daddy,” he whispered, his mind already wondering what the next guy would be like.

 

* * *

 

Five in the morning and he was finally allowed to go home, with a measly one hundred dollars. Crowley had kept most of it, since it was his first night and he wanted Dean to keep coming back for more. The second man had been horribly unpleasant; he’d tasted bad in his mouth, had smelled worse, and had essentially bent him over in an alley and fucked him raw, until Dean was sore and feeling sloppy, open, and dripping with jizz.

 

He definitely needed a shower.

 

Limping up to the door, Dean slowly let himself inside, and up the stairs to wash off so the kids didn’t smell the sex stink all over him. His ass and thighs were still horribly sore where Cain had spanked him raw.

 

 _Cain_.

 

Dean sighed as he thought on the handsome stranger.

 

After they’d finished, Cain had went outside and bought him a soda and some snacks from the vending machine, promising to come back to see him. He only half believed it, but Dean had appreciated the kindness in Cain’s hands and the way he’d made him come.

 

God, he hadn’t had an orgasm like that in years.

 

The water was tepid at best, but at least he was clean, and he no longer smelled like sweat, cum, and whatever else the second guy had ranked of. Letting himself into his room, Dean pulled on some sweat pants and a shirt, before glancing at his bed with serious longing. He was _exhausted_ \- sex work was a lot harder than he’d first envisioned and his entire body was sore. But he couldn’t sleep, not yet, he had to make breakfast for the kids.

 

Making his way down the stairs, Dean still felt a leak in his ass. “Jesus,” he hissed, glad he’d thrown on a clean pair of boxers. Apparently, he was going to be cleaning up for days. Sighing, Dean dug around for some eggs and began to fill the toaster with bread to make toast. At least he had one hundred dollars to spend at the grocery store, which would go nicely if he stretched the dollar a bit.

 

By six, there were sounds upstairs, and then by six-thirty there was arguing. Dean sighed as he stared at the food he’d made. Another day, same old, same old.

 

“Just one day,” he whispered to himself as he turned to greet Sam with a smile. “Morning, Sammy, ready for breakfast?”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, ready to cut class?” came Alex’s voice right in her ear.

 

Claire smirked and spun around as Alex pressed her hips until she had Claire pinned to the row of lockers. “You know I am,” she replied with a smile, their lips almost touching. It was always almost, never quite there. “You gonna kiss me or not, Alex?”

 

Alex pulled away and shook her long, dark tresses back. “C’mon, I got something better than a smoke for you.”

 

Claire frowned as Alex linked arms with her and they walked down the hall together. The two girls _owned_ Riverdale High School and everyone they passed knew it, including the staff. Alex winked at the chemistry teacher before they broke into a laughing fit and ran down a stairwell and out one of the back exit doors. Soon, they were enveloped in warm air and Alex grabbed Claire’s hand, pulling her toward the bleachers, where they usually cut class.

 

Claire’s hands were sweating and she was _really_ hoping Alex didn’t notice.  

 

They were always _almost_ and it was driving her insane. More than anything she wanted Alex to ask her out, but she knew Alex never would. Alex was a… _free spirit_. She didn’t like to tie herself down to one person at a time. She liked to hook up, but she didn’t go on dates.

 

It was a pipe dream and nothing more, but that didn’t keep Claire from wanting.

 

When they reached the bleachers, the gang was already there, and Claire soon found herself sandwiched between Alex and one of the seniors she didn’t know that well on a blanket.

 

“You got the stuff?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbly. Claire shuddered at the sound; deep voices always managed to make her wet.

 

“I told you I did,” Alex snapped back, clearly annoyed as she pulled a bag out of her purse. Claire didn’t need to ask to know it was coke. “You ready, gentleman?”

 

The guys’ grinned wide and began to fight over it, but Alex was soon snatching the bag back. “Hey,” she said, “this shit ain’t cheap. You know how much I had to steal to get this kind of cash?”

 

Claire shifted slightly, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Sure, she smoked and she drank at parties, but when it came down to it, she wasn’t a _bad_ -bad girl. She just liked to act the part, not walk the walk. The only reason she had even _started_ to change her hair, clothes, and attitude was because her father had walked out and her mother had had a mental break. It wasn’t as if she wanted to get high on school property.

 

But if she left, then Alex wouldn’t think she was that cool anymore, or at least, that was what she assumed. If Alex ditched her, then she’d fall back to the bottom of the social ladder, collecting broken bones along the way. She took a deep breath and decided to just suck it up. It wasn’t that big of a deal anyway.

 

“You ready, Claire?” Alex asked as she dished some out on the back of each of their hands to snort.

 

Claire nodded a little. “Uh, yeah.”

 

“Bet you do this shit all the time in your parts, right?” Alex laughed with a wink. “Trust me, I know what a shithole that side of town is. I’m just glad Jody makes enough money to live on the East side and not the West.”

 

“Right,” Claire muttered before raising her hand to her nose and sniffing in as deeply as she could. The rush was immediate, it made her head spin and her eyes grew wide at the new sensation. “ _Fuck_.”

 

The guys were laughing and getting up to dick around while Alex fell back on the blanket with a huge smile on her face. Claire dared to lay down beside her on her side, staring down into Alex’s gorgeous face. Sometimes, Claire felt as if she were staring into the sun.

 

“You like it?” Alex asked as her smile widened. “It’s worth a few more hits, _believe_ me… but I bet this is your first.”

 

“You just said…” Claire said, a frown on her face.

 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want the guys to think you were pussy.” Alex rolled her eyes and laughed. “Let’s dance, Claire.”

 

“To what?” Claire asked with a laugh, but then Alex grabbed her arm and hauled her up and started to move like music was playing. For a moment, she only stood there, unsure of what to do, but then Alex began to grind back on her. Claire felt her heart race a little faster and she wasn’t sure if it were the drugs or the rush of having Alex press up against her body.

 

“ _Get it_ , Alex!” Aidan called with a loud whoop. “Oh, here comes Chambers.”

 

“ _Krissy_!” Alex cried as she rushed over to attack their other friend.

 

Krissy laughed and let Alex grab onto her and then Claire felt her stomach drop. Alex grabbed Krissy’s face and kissed her. The boys began to scream and holler as if they were witnessing a miracle. Claire could only stand there, completely stunned and feeling her high come to an immediate halt. It only grew worse when Krissy kissed her back.

 

Claire glared down at the ground and her shoes before storming back toward the school. The world was all a rush and she had so much energy, she was soon breaking into a run. Instead of running back into the building, she ran around it and toward the front drive. If she had to, she’d run all the way home, just to escape what she’d just seen.

 

It wasn’t until she reached the porch that she realized there were tears streaming down her face.

 

* * *

 

“And that’s it, time’s _up_. Put your pencils down and turn your tests in.”

 

Sam sighed as he set his whittled pencil down on his desk, glaring at the English test he was certain he’d flunked.

 

“How’d you do, cowboy?” Ruby asked, her hip out, looking overly sultry in her skinny jeans and low cut shirt. Not that he was looking or anything.

 

“I flunked,” he replied as he stood and went to set the test down on Mrs. Milton’s desk. Anna, Mrs. Milton’s daughter, was one of Ruby’s best friends. Sam was fairly certain Anna had a crush on Ruby, but he was usually wrong about those types of things.

 

“Yeah, _right_ ,” Ruby replied as she rolled her eyes. “You totally aced it, we _all_ know it.”

 

Sam didn’t reply because something caught his eye by the window. Frowning, he doubled back and walked over to try and look through the partially opened blinds. His eyes widened when he realized it was _Claire_ and she was running through the parking lot.

 

“What the fuck…” he whispered.

 

“Hey, you comin’, Stretch?” Ruby called.

 

“Uh, yeah…” Sam trailed off as he spun around and began to hurry out of the classroom and down the hall to their next class, which happened to be lunch.

 

“You okay? You look lost…” Ruby tilted her head to the side, sounding _actually_ worried for once. “Sam?”

 

“It was Claire, she was running through the parking lot. I gotta call Dean. Sorry, Ruby, I’ll meet you at lunch.” Sam stuffed his stuff into his bag and began to run down the hall, even though he hated breaking rules, and this was _definitely_ him breaking the rules.

 

“Sam?!”

 

He had to ignore her as he bolted for the main office coming to a skidding halt in front of the secretary’s desk. She knew him well, since he always came down to the office to say hello. Now that he was in a steady place and at a school for good, he liked getting to know the people who ran the school. Maybe it was for times like these, when he was going to have to beg to use the phone.

 

“Oh, hello Sam,” she said with a huge smile. All the students called her Miss. Charlotte.

 

“Hi,” Sam said with a huge smile. “Uh, I gotta favor to ask…”

 

“What?” she asked.

 

“I need to call my brother? It’s an emergency- it’s with my sister.” Sam didn’t want to rat Claire out, but he was also going to have to get into her locker to get her stuff before school was out.

 

Miss. Charlotte looked at him skeptically but he just kept on smiling and looking innocent, until she nodded and gestured at the phone behind her. “Just dial three first, Sweetheart.”

 

“Thanks, Miss. Charlotte.” Sam smiled and rushed over to pick up the phone, dial three, and then dial their house phone. “C’mon, Dean, pick up- pick up…”

 

“Yeah?” came Dean’s tired voice.

 

“Dean! I just saw Claire, she was running away from the school,” he whispered. “I don't know what’s wrong, but-.”

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dean groaned, sounding more alert. “Alright, I’ll keep an eye out. Jesus fuck me, fucking- ugh.”

 

The line went dead and Sam sighed as he hung up, too. “Thanks, Miss. Charlotte,” he called with a wave as he turned and headed toward the cafeteria to meet Ruby. His lunch was sandwiched in his bookbag, probably ruined at this rate. Maybe Ruby would take pity on him and buy him lunch again.

 

“Hey, there you are,” Ruby said as he sat down at their usual table. “Peanut butter on bread again?” she asked, already passing him a tray. He could have kissed her if that wouldn’t have been _really_ weird.

 

“ _Thanks_ , Ruby,” he said, picking up the chicken sandwich to devour. Sure, it was crap, but it was better than what he had.

 

“Everything okay?” She dipped one of her french fries in ketchup, which was her favorite food. She liked french fries, ketchup, and tall men.

 

“Yeah, it was just… I saw Claire running away from the school, so I called Dean to keep an eye out. I have _no_ idea what that was about.” He shrugged helplessly.

 

“Weird, hope she’s okay.”

 

“Yeah, me too.” Sam sighed and then Anna was sitting with them, looking extra preppy in her plaid skirt, pink sweater, and her hair up in a ponytail. “You look nice today.”

 

“Oh, _thanks_ Sam,” Anna said with a smile, even as she glanced at Ruby for confirmation.

 

Ruby nodded. “Yeah, I like it, the hot librarian look.”

 

That made Anna blush and Sam smirked a little. It was so obvious to him, but Ruby was _clueless_.

 

“So, tonight there’s a party on Baker Street, who’s going?” Ruby asked.

 

“I am if you are,” Anna said.

 

“ _Really_? You? Miss Perfect Grades?” Ruby laughed and slung an arm around Anna’s shoulders. Sam was fairly certain Anna would have stroked out if she wasn’t just frozen with wide eyes at their closeness. “Sweet. You coming, Sammy?”

 

Sam glared. “Ruby…”

 

“ _Sam_. Sorry. Jeeze, so touchy.”

 

He shrugged and glanced down at his food. If Dean had to work that would put him in charge again, even if he was tired of being in charge. It was tiring, even though Claire and Adam could take care of themselves, Jesse was another matter.

 

“Sam? You coming or not?” Ruby asked.

 

Sam looked up at her finally. “Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

 

“Awesome.” They all exchanged smiles and Sam realized what freedom felt like. It was nice.

 

* * *

 

Dean made his way downstairs, even if all he wanted to do was sleep, just in time for Claire to burst through the front door in tears. “Claire? Hey- hey-.” Dean finished walking down the steps to go to her, ready to wrap his arms around her, but she pushed him away. “Claire, what the hell is going on?”

 

“She _kissed_ Krissy, right in _front_ of me!” Claire sobbed.

 

“Who kissed Krissy?” Dean asked as she started to pace.

 

“ _Alex_! Who else?!” Claire yelled as she continued to pace around the living room, clearly distraught. She seemed agitated and kept twitching and she couldn’t stop even for a moment.

 

“Claire, c’mon, let’s sit down and talk,” Dean insisted, reaching for her, but she spun around and smacked his hand away.

 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me!” She glared and then Dean frowned as he realized her pupils were extremely dilated.

 

“Are you… _high_?” he asked, completely stunned. “Fuck- Claire, what did you _take_?”

 

“Nothing!”

 

“Well, that’s clearly a lie, what did you take?” He was doing his best to _not_ be angry, since every kid experimented with drugs. God knows _he_ did. “Claire, please, I’m not mad, just tell me.”

 

“I dunno, it looked like coke.” Claire shrugged and then hugged herself. “Fuck, she _kissed_ Krissy. I _like_ her and she kissed Krissy! I hate her!”

 

“ _Coke_? Jesus, Claire!” Dean threw up his hands and ran them through his hair. “C’mon, let’s go.”

 

“Go where?”

 

“The ER.”

 

“ _Why_?” She backed up away from him until she was pressed into a corner.

 

“Because I need you to be looked over for my own peace of mind,” Dean replied. “Maybe they can give you something.”

 

“You wanna be a _arrested_ , genius?” she demanded. “They’ll just assume you _gave_ the shit to me.”

 

His shoulders slumped as he realized she was probably right. “Son of a bitch,” he groaned and then pointed to the couch. “Sit on your ass and don’t leave the house. Got it?”

 

“But-.”

 

“ _Now_.” Dean went to the kitchen to get her some water and then the phone was ringing. “Jesus!” he screamed, angrily answering, “What?!”

 

“Mmm, temper, _temper_ ,” came Crowley’s smug voice. “Did I call at a bad time, Cupcake?”

 

“What do you _want_ Crowley?” he asked, completely exasperated.

 

“ _Cain_ is asking for you again. The whole night, he’s paying _double_ for you to show up fresh, showered, and ready to spend the whole evening at his apartment.”

 

Dean glanced back into the living room to make sure Claire was still there and also to make sure she wasn’t paying attention. He quickly lowered his voice to hiss, “Whatever, what time?”

 

“He’ll pick you up at the same bar at ten tonight. You won’t be returning to your house until tomorrow.”

 

“ _Fine_. I gotta go, I’m having a kid emergency.” Hanging up, Dean pressed his forehead to the cabinets before taking a deep breath and filling a mostly clean glass with ice and water. “Claire, drink this, please,” he said as he came back to the living room to sit beside her.

 

“Are you really not mad?” she asked.

 

“I mean, I _am_ mad,” he replied slowly, “I don’t want you doing drugs that hard ever again, got it?”

 

“Yeah… I don’t want to either, don’t worry. I don’t feel good…” She trailed off and took the water to sip. “Fuck.”

 

“Claire, I’d feel better if I took you to the ER.”

 

“I’m _fine_ ,” she snapped, getting up to head upstairs. “I’m gonna sleep it off.”

 

“Alright, but don’t yell at me when I’m checking on you every twenty minutes.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Dean sighed and sank down on the couch, feeling completely drained. He was sleep deprived, hungry, and he’d forgotten to buy himself a coffee as a treat when he’d been out buying groceries earlier. At least they had food now; he could make the kids lunches and dinner before he had to rush off to work in the evening.

 

He turned his eyes to look at the clock. It was almost time for the kids to come home, which meant he needed to get up and start making snacks and then plan dinner. Tonight, they were having tacos, which was a huge treat, and it made him smile when he thought about it. Pushing the exhaustion to the side, Dean stood up and made his way back to the kitchen to start making some bagel bites in the oven.

 

It was going to be a _long_ night.

 

* * *

 

Cain picked him up exactly at ten; the guy had extreme punctuality, he was learning quickly.

 

Once again, he’d forgone the layers and picked a pair of jeans, which he’d washed that day and a more fitted t-shirt, not that he had a lot of _those_. He was big on baggy shirts and  baggier jeans. They hid his fat.

 

“You look nice,” Cain commented as he began to drive into the heart of the city and away from the suburbs. Dean watched as the familiar sights of his small section of town began to fade away and give into something nicer, cleaner, _richer_. It was obvious that Cain had money, but Dean had never imagined himself being picked by such a well off john.

 

“Thanks,” he replied as he looked out the window and watched the buildings grow taller and there were many people out and about. That didn’t happen on the West side. If you walked alone at night on the West side, there was a huge chance you would be mugged and shot. Dean never let the kids leave the house past eleven unattended.

 

Of course, speaking _of_ , Sam was going to a fucking party, even though he’d told him _no_. He’d told Sam to stay, but Sam had taken off, which had put Adam in charge, but really, Claire was in charge, because Adam didn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. But he’d also made Sam promise him before he’d left to _not_ walk home and to have someone sober drive him. He just hope Sam kept his promise.

 

“Seems nice here,” Dean commented as Cain began to pull up to an extremely tall and nice building. It had to be his apartment complex. “Wow, you _live_ here?”

 

Cain chuckled. “I own the building,” he replied as he slid out of the car.

 

“You- you _what_?” Dean clambered out of the car to stare at Cain as if he’d grown two heads. “You _own_ the building?” His eyes trailed up and up and _up_. “Holy shit.”

 

“I own many buildings in this area, actually.” Cain handed his keys to a valet driver who nodded and then Cain’s arm was around his waist and walking him up to the doorman.

 

“No shit,” Dean muttered as they were let inside. “How rich _are_ you?”

 

Cain smirked and they walked up to the elevator and he pressed the up arrow. “Rich enough to own an apartment building,” he replied with a wink.

 

Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything as they stepped into the doors. As soon as they shut, Dean gasped when Cain pressed him up against the wall and their mouths sealed together in a hot and deep kiss. Suddenly, Dean felt as if he were in a movie and this was _the_ moment the two main love interests were gonna _do it_.

 

It was invigorating.

 

“Fuck,” Dean gasped as Cain rucked up his shirt and kissed his neck. “So, the whole night?”

 

“Oh, yes,” Cain replied against his skin, moving to kiss his lips again. “I had you once and I couldn’t say no again.”

 

Dean groaned and allowed Cain to squeeze his crotch, making him half hard easily. “I showered like you wanted.”

 

“I can _tell_.” Cain pushed his shirt so far up, Dean could see his skin tone reflecting in the stainless steel walls of the elevator. He moaned when Cain rubbed his nipples and made them hard. “You smell divine.”

 

He rolled his eyes a little - he smelled like the cheap Irish Spring bars of soap, nothing fancy. “Believe me, I don’t smell divine-.” The comment was cut off with a little yelp when Cain pinched his nipple too hard. “ _Ow_ , dude.”

 

“No bad talking yourself around _me_ , young man,” Cain replied, his voice so stern it made Dean’s body shudder.

 

“Yes, Sir,” he muttered just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal a long hallway with one solitary door at the end. “You live in the penthouse?” he whispered.

 

“It comes with owning the building.” Cain smiled a little and then began to steer Dean down the hall in a hurry. Dean waited as Cain opened the door and he didn’t even get a good look around before Cain was bending him over the nearest object, which happened to be a couch.

 

“Needy today, Daddy?” Dean asked, teasing slightly.

 

“Had a _long_ day,” Cain replied as he yanked down Dean’s pants and underwear to reveal his ass. He sighed, as if disappointed, and Dean blushed. What was wrong _now_? “Undress and go upstairs. Lie on the bed.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” Dean said again as he straightened and started to strip out of his clothes right there. He could feel Cain’s eyes on him, which was making him a little uncomfortable, but soon he was turning to go up the stairs and find the bedroom. It wasn’t hard to find, even though there were two other rooms he realized, but Cain’s was very distinct; it also looked the most lived in.

 

The bed was made, just like the others, but it wasn’t perfect, there were slippers by the bed, and glasses on the nightstand. Dean smirked as he picked up the black rimmed frames and set them on his nose. God, Cain was _blind_.

 

“Damn,” he whispered as he plucked the glasses off of his face and set them back down and then he was lying on the bed, on his stomach, unsure of what else to do other than wait.

 

Cain took his time, too.

 

Honestly, he took so long, Dean almost fell asleep, but then he was awake as Cain walked in. It was hard to sleep when he felt the stern eyes trailing and raking over his skin. If he hadn’t already been undressed, he would have assumed Cain was undressing him with his eyes.

 

“You like?” Dean asked playfully, even kicking up his feet a little. Did Cain like it when he was cheeky and cute? God, he hoped so.

 

“I do,” Cain admitted before turning to go into another room, which Dean peered over enough to see it was the bathroom.

 

_Oh God, I hope he’s not into that bathroom play stuff- that’s just_ too _kinky for me._

 

When Cain returned, Dean saw he had a towel draped over one arm, a dish of water in one hand, and a razor in the other. It finally clicked. “Uh…” Dean started. “Look, I get it, you want me… baby smooth or whatever, but-.”

 

“Lie on your back, Dean,” Cain replied.

 

Dean sighed as he rolled over and allowed Cain to place the towel under his hips, so he had something beneath his butt. “You’re not real used to hearin’ the word _no_ , are you?”

 

“On the contrary,” Cain replied, “I hear the word no, very often.”

 

He pouted and glared at the ceiling, his arms crossed over his chest. “Do I have to do this? Will you combust if I have a happy trail? Look, I like it, makes me feel manly… You can groom it up if you want, but I’m not a prepubescent boy, alright? I _like_ the hair down there.”

 

Cain rubbed his hips and spread his legs, which only made him blush harder. “If you do not want me to-.”

 

“I _don’t_.” Dean looked down at him where Cain was standing at the edge of the bed. “Really, I do not want.”

 

Cain sighed and disappeared back in the bathroom again. Dean relaxed and stared up at the ceiling, just waiting now. Would Cain want to spank him again? He was fairly certain he could handle it this time, now that he _knew_ about it.

 

“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable,” Cain said as he returned. “Do you know about safewording, Dean?”

 

“Uh, nope.. I mean- we got a swear jar at home, but it’s empty because I keep taking the damn money outta it.” He shrugged. “Plus, I can’t stop saying fuck for five minutes, so I stopped caring as much.”

 

Cain stared at him a moment, clearly trying to catch up, but eventually Dean saw a light go off. “Ah, that is not quite what I mean.”

 

“What do you mean then?” Dean slowly sat up, wondering if this were a Very Serious Conversation™.

 

“Safewording, is for when you wish for us to stop… for _any_ reason. If you’re in pain, if you don’t like what we’re doing, if I’ve emotionally or mentally upset you, as I did the other night,” Cain explained. “I can also safeword, even though I am the dominant in the bedroom.”

 

“The- the-... _Oh_.” It finally clicked with Dean, too.

 

Cain was into BDSM.

 

He knew a little about BDSM, because Sam had gone on a huge ass tirade about why _50 Shades_ was nothing but bullshit wrapped up to look like BDSM. He’d read about subs and dominants and how they were nothing at all like the book went on about.

Did Cain see him as a sub? _Was_ he a sub?

 

Dean began to think back to all of his sexual experiences and realized that, yeah, he probably was a fucking sub.

 

Then, he finally remembered safewording. He’d read about that too.

 

“ _Oh_ ,” he said, finally tracking. “Like if I shout out Red Light, or whatever.”

 

Cain’s eyebrows went up. “You know about this lifestyle.”

 

“A little,” he admitted. “I mean, I’m no expert, but my brother got real into _50 Shades_ \- not like… not like _into_ it, but against it. He hated the whole series and would go on rants about why it was crap, so I started to read up on it.” Dean shrugged and felt his cheeks start to turn red. “So, yeah, I know what safewording is.”

 

“Do you have one?” Cain asked.

 

“Nah, but I can make one up if you like.” He looked up at Cain shyly. “Probably _Impala_ , it’s my go to.”

 

“Impala it is,” Cain replied as he touched Dean’s chin playfully. “I am glad you agreed to stay the night.”

 

_Well,_ he wanted to say, _you are paying me to do it._ But, he also didn’t want to remind Cain of their unfair dynamic, so he just said, “Well, it’s nice to get outta the house for a night, i gotta admit… and your bed is _nice_.”

 

The whole room was nice, really. It was all dark shades of gray and mauve and neutral colors with a hint of purple here and there. Classy, modern, and chic. Dean wasn’t surprised, Cain seemed like a super classy guy.

 

“Thank you.” Cain’s hand slowly began to guide him back onto the bed and Dean let him, smiling as his back came to connect with the soft mattress. He watched as Cain’s fingers walked down his chest, to his belly, which was softer than he wanted, and then to run two fingers down his cock to the head, where it started to twitch and stand up.

 

Dean’s breath hitched as Cain wrapped his fingers around Dean’s cock to slowly start to stroke and tease him. His eyes slowly fluttered closed as the pleasure started to build - it was slow and steady, just a little warmth in his belly and pressure in his pelvis. It felt good, almost like a tickle, and Dean knew he’d need a little extra to get off in Cain’s hand. More than the slow and steady movements at least.

 

There was no lube, which made it a little uncomfortable, but he let his eyes open a little to look at Cain, who was watching him with intensity. It made goose bumps appear on Dean’s skin and his nipples hardened.

 

“You wanna slick up the ride, old man?” Dean asked with a wink.

 

Cain paused and immediately turned to rummage through a drawer to remove a bottle of lube. Pouring a generous amount into his palm, Cain was quick to return to the slow and light handjob. Dean sighed and moaned at the new sensation, pressing his hips up eagerly into Cain’s palm.

 

“Oh, _yeah_ , fuck,” Dean growled, his eyes fluttering.

 

“Do you like that?” Cain asked as his hand slowly sped up. The slick sounds were all Dean could focus on, so he just nodded, gripping and twisting the sheets in his hands as he grew closer and closer to orgasm. “Such a good boy, you are,” Cain muttered and Dean whined. .

 

Apparently, praise was a serious hot spot for him. It was definitely pressing _all_ of his buttons at once. “Daddy,” he whimpered pathetically, breathless and close to coming. “I’m about to blow-.”

 

“Hold it,” Cain said firmly.

 

Dean gulped and felt his toes curl tightly. “Daddy, I c-can’t…” He gasped and cried out as he came hard, splattering his stomach and chest. “I’m sorry-.”

 

Cain worked him through it until it was too much and then he was leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. It was such a subtle, gentle gesture. It made Dean’s chest feel warm and fuzzy. “Good boy,” he whispered. “You did well.”

 

Dean blushed and nodded once. It was then he realized he was exhausted. If Cain wanted to fuck him, it would have to be in his sleep. Struggling to keep his eyes open, Dean soon realized he was dozing off, and Cain wasn’t even complaining. One moment he was awake, the next he was being washed with a warm cloth, then he was asleep, then he was waking up when Cain was tucking him, and then finally, he rolled over and felt himself practically trip into sleep for good.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad BDSM up ahead, this is not how real healthy BDSM relationships should/would go, fyi

Parties were not his scene; they were too loud, the music was always something _awful_ , and there were always girls everywhere trying to climb down the front of his pants. Why he had agreed to go with Ruby and Anna in the first place was beyond his imagination, but he _had_ , and he was there, so now he had to suck it up. The only thing he knew to do was to stand in the corner, hold his red cup full of mystery alcohol, and bob his head now and again to the shitty music.

 

He would rather listen to Dean sing along to Led Zeppelin’s _Houses of the Holy_ ten times in a _row_ than stand and listen to whatever was playing now.

 

“ _Hey_ , Sam,” Ruby said as she walked up to him. She’d changed for the party, curling her hair and putting on the shortest dress he’d ever seen on a real girl in person. “You wanna go upstairs?”

 

“Uh…” Sam glanced around the party and immediately felt trapped. He could say no and blow Ruby off, which would only upset her, or he could go upstairs and pretend to like something he didn’t really feel the desire to do. The second seemed like the better of the two. “Sure.”

 

“ _Great_.” Ruby took his hand and together they made their way upstairs and for a moment Sam wondered where Anna had gotten to.

 

“Where’s Anna?” he asked as soon as they were in a room, which Sam knew belonged to _someone_ that wasn’t him. It wasn’t an overly nice house, but they weren’t in the same impoverished neighborhood he lived in now.

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ruby said with a flippant shrug. “I’m more interested in _you_ , anyway.” She turned to face him and then her hands were in his shirt and she was pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, that made him drop the cup in hand. It fell to the floor, splattering all over the carpet and Sam immediately felt _awful_ for probably staining this person’s carpet.

 

“Ruby,” he said, pulling back, trying to break free, but she was pushing and pulling him to the bed. Before he could even protest, she had him on his back and she was straddling him as if she were about to ride him like a fucking pony. Sam’s eyes grew wide in alarm.

 

“Sam Winchester, I have been _dying_ to sleep with you for way too long,” she said as she pulled her dress down to reveal her breasts. The sight made Sam blush and he immediately looked away. He’d seen breasts on TV but never in person and this was _not_ how he imagined it would go the first time.

 

“Ruby, you’re drunk,” he said quickly, hoping that would put her off. “I can’t- we _can’t_.”

 

“Aw, c’mon Sam, I know it’s what you _want_.”

 

But it wasn’t what he wanted.

 

He had _never_ wanted _it_. Sex. The big S word. Doing the do. Fucking. Making love.

 

For a long time he’d grown up believing he was broken and that there was something wrong with him. The first time he’d seen porn, he’d felt uncomfortable - it had left him feeling dirty and wrong. Afterward, he’d realize the idea of sex repulsed him. He didn’t even masturbate all that often, only when the stress became too much and he just _had_ to.

 

Over time, he’d started to research more about how he lacked sexual attraction to people and come across the term asexual. As a preteen he’d felt dirty and weird for not wanting sex, but after he’d learned more and more about asexuality via the computers at the library and the lone laptop he had at home that _sometimes_ connected to the wifi, the more he’d felt at home and felt peace.

 

He wasn’t strange. He wasn’t wrong and he wasn’t weird. He was normal and there were other people like him. The only problem came when he tried to explain it to people; the only person who _knew_ was Adam, because they shared a room and things just came out between them sometimes. He hadn’t even told Dean, because he was certain Dean would _never_ understand.

 

But now he had to get Ruby to understand or he was going to have to suck it up. Again.

 

“Ruby, we have to talk,” he said, pressing her back a little, hoping he didn’t offend her.

 

“About what?” she asked with a smile.

 

“About _this_ …” He gestured between them. “Look, I like you and I think you’re _very_ beautiful, but I don’t want to… you know…”

 

Ruby blinked, sitting up and climbing off of him as if he’d stung her. “You don’t want to have sex?” she asked with surprise. “Seriously?”

 

“Yeah, _seriously_. I’m sorry, Ruby, I’m just not ready,” he lied, hoping that would be a good enough excuse. “Okay?”

 

“Wow, I’m surprised, like really surprised. I’m not used to hearing _no_.” She looked around them, seeming lost and confused. “Okay, fine, you don’t want me, _fine_. You know, Sam, you could have been nicer about it.”

 

“What?” Sam asked, trying to sit up as she stood and started to pull her dress up and hurry to the door. “Ruby?! Wait- _Ruby_!”

 

Ruby burst from the bedroom and Sam was left stammering on the bed, completely lost on what to do or how to feel. _Great_ , he thought, _class on Monday is going to be just_ great.

 

* * *

 

“You know I left last night and didn’t come home until past curfew,” Claire said as soon as he walked through the front door, dragging his feet from being tired. Sure, Cain’s bed had given him the best sleep in his entire _life_ , but one night of a few hours of rest did not makeup for all of the other times he didn’t sleep.

 

“Claire,” he said, ready to put his head through the wall, “It’s not even eight in the morning, remind me to ground you later.”

 

“You can’t go to bed,” she snapped, which made his fists curl and Dean paused to take a deep breath.

 

“Why not?” he asked, ready to hear her out.

 

“Because you promised Jesse you’d take him to the street fair today, _remember_?”

 

Dean opened his mouth to protest and then he _did_ recall telling the kids they could go to the fair, even though they’d all made it sound stupid, but he _knew_ they wanted to go. “It’s too early to go, it’s not even _open_.”

 

“It opens at eight and Jesse wants to go as soon as they open,” she replied. “I already made him breakfast, _you’re welcome_ beeteedubs.”

 

There was nothing he could say to change her mind and if he broke his promise now, that would just be ground he lost in gaining Jesse’s favor. “You coming too?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, nothing _else_ to do.”

 

“Ugh-.”

 

“What? You don’t _want_ me to come?” Claire glared at him, sounding truly offended. “Wow, _thanks_ Dean.”

 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he protested as she stomped up the steps. “Claire! _Claire_!” Dean clenched his hands into fists and turned to kick the couch angrily a few times. After yelling and kicking, it took him a moment to realize Jesse was watching him from the doorway to the kitchen. “Shit- hey… Sorry-...”

 

“So we’re not going?” Jesse asked.

 

“No, we _are_. We’re going to the fair, we _are_.” Dean fished his wallet from his back pocket to remove the cash Cain had given him. It was going away in the jar they kept for rainy days. Cain had paid him one grand for the whole night; it was the most cash he’d ever seen in his entire life.

 

“Can I get Claire and Adam?” Jesse asked as he followed on Dean’s heels.

 

“Yeah, sure buddy,” he replied, despite being distracted. “Hey, where’s Sammy?”

 

“Asleep.”

 

“Okay. Thanks.” Dean took a moment to calm down and he was glad Cain had fed him before leaving, so he didn’t have to feel hungry for most of the morning. Plucking one a crisp one hundred dollar bill, he shoved it back into his wallet so he could get the kids some food or presents at the fair.

 

“Hey, loser,” Adam said as he came down the steps, ruffling Jesse’s hair on the way. “Why’s Claire crying in the bathroom?”

 

Dean groaned, ready to knock himself out with enough drugs to take a bull elephant down. “Because she thinks I don’t want her to come to the fair and I _do_.”

 

“Oh, so she’s just being a girl?” Adam asked with a laugh. “Where were you last night?”

 

Dean stuffed the money jar away and locked the cabinet. It was the only want to keep the kids out of the cahs. “Work,” he replied.

 

“Doing _what_?” Adam frowned, clearly not buying any bullshit he could sell.

 

“Just work.” Dean shrugged. “Elle’s got me working late night shifts to do stock and shit. I said I’d do it because it pays a shit ton more.”

 

“ _Oh_. Sweet.” Adam grinned. “That’s cool, man, but I mean it kinda sucks that you’re stuck working nights and stuff.”

 

He shrugged again and then turned his attention to Claire, Sam, and Jesse as they all came downstairs. “Hey, we all ready to go?”

 

“Yeah,” Jesse said quickly. “Right?” He looked up at Sam, Claire, and Adam for confirmation.

 

“Yeah, we’re ready,” Adam said with a smile. “Let’s go.”

 

Dean nodded and went to grab his keys from the jar on the counter. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

She’s wasn’t completely surprised that Dean didn’t want her to go the fair, he didn’t even _like_ her. He could pretend all he wanted that he cared about her, but she knew he didn’t. No one _cared_ about her; not her mom, not her dad, and not her biological father either.

 

Dean had once argued that John had cared about her, which was why he hadn’t taken her away from her mother, but Amelia Novak was no better in Claire’s mind. She’d abandoned her and she was alone in the fucked up world.

 

Of course, now she was sitting at a picnic table under the hot September sun and glaring at the worn out wood. Jesse was in line to get a balloon animal with Dean, while Sam and Adam were in line getting elephant ears and funnel cakes. It was as if they were one happy family and it was almost sickening to think about. Especially when reality came crashing back down on them and they realized they were poor.

 

They were poor and they lived in the slums and their dad was an alcoholic who ran out on his kids ages ago. They were the poster children for those ad campaigns on trying to help underprivileged kids in poor neighborhoods.

 

“So,” Adam said as he and Sam returned with food to sling his legs over the table and sit, “what’s up sourpuss?”

 

“Shut _up_ ,” she snapped, angrily looking away to where Dean was standing off to the side, while Jesse received his balloon animal. “God, I wish I was that age again.”

 

“ _Why_?” Adam asked with a laugh. “So you can pretend the world doesn’t suck? News flash, Claire, it does suck and we’re all just floating through shit until we die.”

 

“ _Wow_ ,” Sam said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “Way to be positive.”

 

“I don’t believe in being positive,” Adam replied with a shrug.

 

“Because you’re a pain in the ass,” Sam said. “Here, Claire, have some funnel cake.” He passed over a plate with a half eaten funnel cake.

 

“Not hungry,” she replied with a shrug, trying to decide what Krissy Chambers had that she did not. Why did Krissy get to make out with Alex and she didn’t? “Do you guys think Krissy Chambers is hot?”

 

Sam shrugged, but Adam was quick to reply, “Yeah, she’s hot. She’s got that bad girl vibe, but she’s also pretty. I would totally wanna bang her.”

 

“ _Whoa_ ,” came Dean’s voice as he approached the table with Jesse, his hands over Jesse’s ears. “How about we keep it family friendly? Yeah?”

 

“Sorry,” Adam said with a smirk. Obviously, he wasn’t sorry.

 

“Do you like my balloon animal?” Jesse asked Adam as he sat on the bench next to him.

 

“Yeah, man, that’s cool. It’s a… giraffe?”

 

Jesse nodded. “Yeah, I wanted a giraffe.”

 

“Cool, Kid.”

 

Dean sank down next to her and she immediately slid away from him. “Claire, I said I was sorry. How many times do I have to apologize?”

 

She shrugged and glanced down at the table. “Can I just take a walk, please?”

 

Dean’s eyebrows went up. “Claire, I’d rather you stay with us.”

 

“ _Please_? Just this _one_ time? I’ll meet you somewhere at a certain time, whatever.” She shrugged and looked around, not wanting to look at him.

 

“Fine, but your butt better be back at the ferris wheel at four, okay?” Dean said sternly and she nodded before getting up to walk away from the table and the group.

 

The more she disappeared into the crowd, the better she felt. Claire lost herself in the crowd, winding through lines and rides, until she rounded the corner to see none other than Krissy Chambers. “Fuck,” she whispered before marching up to her and standing right in her space.

 

“Oh, hey, Claire,” Krissy said with a smile. “I didn’t know you were here.”

 

“Are you seeing Alex?” she asked.

 

“Uh, what?”

 

“ _Alex_. Are you seeing her?”

 

Krissy tilted her head as her eyes squinted together. “ _Oh_ , yeah, Alex. Sorry- Annie. Alex, yes.” She shrugged and smirked a little. “I mean, we’re not like dating-dating, but I’m definitely seeing more of her all the time. Why?”

 

Of course. _Of course_ Alex would _sorta_ date Krissy but not her. Of course. Claire felt her hands go into fists and before she could stop herself, she was swinging back and hitting Krissy as hard as she could in the face. The snap of bone made Claire flinch, she didn't know if it was her hand that had broken or if she’d bust Krissy’s nose, either way there was blood and a lot of it.

 

The crowd gasped and gathered around while Claire leapt on top of Krissy as she felt and began to pommel her over and over until she felt someone grab her shoulders to put an end to the fight. Her eyes were red around the edges and there was so much blood. Krissy’s face was swollen up twice as large as usual, her eyes were almost completely swollen shut, and there was so much _red_.

 

Vermillion. Crimson. Red.

 

Claire shook herself and yanked away from the man who had pulled her off of Krissy and then began to run toward the Ferris Wheel. It wasn’t even close to the time Dean had said they were meant to meet, but she still walked there anyway and climbed on without even thinking about it. No one else was in line and she sat in the carriage alone, ready to reach the top, and _God_ did she want the ride to break down. Desperately, she wanted the ride to stop and she was just _stuck_.

 

High up and away.

 

Never again did she want to touch the ground.

 

Claire rode the ride so many times, she lost track, but it wasn’t as if the wheel was a big hit at the fair. No one joined her, until she felt a heavy weight slide in beside her and she didn’t have to look to know it was Dean. The smell of Irish Spring and leather always gave him away. Plus that damn car of his.

 

“What?” she asked, staring at her knuckles, which were bloody and she could already hear the question Dean was going to ask her.

 

“Who was it?” Dean asked, which _wasn’t_ what she’d expected. “And did they deserve it?”

 

“Krissy Chambers,” she replied quietly. “And no… not really- I just got mad… It was stupid.” Claire shrugged helplessly. “Alex is gonna ditch me now, so what’s the point?”

 

“Claire,” Dean said slowly, reaching to take her hand and use a napkin he pulled from his jacket pocket to wipe her hands clean. “I know you like Alex, but you deserve someone better than her if she’s just stringing you along.”

 

“I _know_ ,” she sighed, trying not to slump, even though she wanted to. “I know I shouldn’t care as much as I do about her, it’s not like she really _likes_ me.”

 

“You’re gonna find some girl who will _sweep_ you off of your feet, Claire. I promise.” Dean smiled a little. “Or a guy, whichever. Doesn’t matter to me, I don’t judge.”

 

“I just feel so shitty.” She slowly looked up at the sky and then realized they were at the top and _Dean_ had gotten on the Ferris wheel to be with her. He hated heights; he didn’t even like to climb trees or ride up extremely high elevators. “Thanks for sitting with me, I know you hate being up high.”

 

Dean snorted and shrugged a bit. “Just don’t remind me how high up we are and I’ll be alright.”

 

“Right. Sorry.” A slow smile twitched along her lips and Claire laced her fingers with his, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry I’m so annoying.”

 

“I’m sorry you live in a household full of teenage boys,” he countered. That made her smile and laugh a little. “Look, Claire, I don’t want you to think you’re not welcome in this family, because you _are_. I care about you, just as much as I care about Sam or Adam or Jesse. I promise.”

 

Slowly, Claire leaned against Dean until he pulled his arm around her shoulders. “Thanks, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, you’re welcome, kiddo.”

 

“I wonder if Jo-.”

 

“Jo Harvelle is too old for you,” Dean cut her off immediately.

 

“She’s not that old!”

 

“Old enough,” he spat back. “Pick someone your own age, I am _sure_ there are other cute girls dying to be with you in that school.”

 

She huffed out a sigh. “ _Fine_.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Claire glanced up at him and smiled a bit. “You’re such a _mom_.”

 

Watching the blush form on Dean’s cheeks was definitely worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean sighed as the guy behind him kept _attempting_ to get his dick in his ass - attempt was a bad word.

 

He was failing to get the dick in his ass.

 

“Dude, you need _help_?” Dean asked, finally fed up. He’d already fucked four guys in one night and he was tired and ready to go home.

 

“I got it,” the guy spat, just as he finally was able to shove in.

 

Dean pretended to groan, but he’d been faking it all damn evening and he was _tired_.

 

He’d been hooking for a month and in that month he’d seen so many STD tests that the ladies at the clinic knew him by name. He’d insisted the last four guys put on a glove; no glove, no love.

 

The only man who was going to be cumming in him without a condom was Cain.

 

Dean sighed and shut his eyes, trying to pretend it was Cain fucking him, but Cain wasn’t awkward and it didn’t feel so rough or hard. The guy behind him clearly had no idea what he was doing and Dean wasn’t even sure he could fake it. Not after four other guys before this one.

 

“Moan or somethin’!” the guy snapped, giving his hip a smack.

 

“Make me moan and I will, dumbass,” Dean spat back. Okay, so maybe he should have been more careful with his words, because that earned him a hard punch to the ribs. Dean gasped as the air left him, but he managed to twist them so he could push his john off and onto the floor. “Fuck off, dick,” he said coldly as he gathered his clothes.

 

“What about the money?!”

 

“I don’t need your money, ass wipe.” Rolling his eyes, Dean left the hotel room and made his way over to where Crowley’s car was waiting on him.

 

“That was fast,” Crowley commented with a frown, “too fast.”

 

“I wasn’t exactly banging Casanova, Crowley,” he replied as his eyes shut and he relaxed against the seat.

 

“You didn’t finish him, did you? Dean, I _told_ you, my whores have _integrity_ , no matter how bad it is.” Crowley gave him an unhappy look; he hated that look.

 

“Look, I’m tired Crowley. I’ve been fucking all night, _faking_ it all night, and I wanted a break… Then the guy decided to punch me.” Dean ran a hand over his face. “I’m done, I just… I can’t do more tonight.”

 

“You’re not done until I _say_ you’re done,” Crowley growled. “Now get your sorry ass back in there, apologize, give that man a free blowjob, and then ride his brains out. Got it?”

 

Every inch of him wanted to strangle Crowley in the backseat of his Benz, but he didn’t. Dean kept his hands to himself and threw the door back open. He was about to close it and storm back into the room when Crowley answered his phone.

 

“Crowley? … Yes…” Crowley snatched the back of Dean’s shirt to stop him. “Mhm. Where at? Sure, I’ll bring him there myself. Pleasure doing business with you, Cain.”

 

 _Oh thank Jesus_. Dean glanced up at the sky, mouthed a ‘thank you’, and then slid back into the car.

 

“You’re lucky he pays extra,” Crowley snapped. “More than that shithead in there pays that’s for damn sure.”

 

“Where am I going?” Dean asked.

 

“A party.”

 

* * *

 

Being nervous was not his MO.

 

In fact, he was hardly _ever_ nervous. Not when he went to job interviews, not when he was in public, not when he should have been ever in his life. But, waiting for Dean to be dropped off at the hotel was the most nerve wracked Cain had ever been.

 

He was so nervous, he found himself pacing outside to the point where the doorman asked him if he were alright. He’d loosened his tie, his hair was a mess, and Dean was late.

 

He didn’t like tardiness. It was worse than anything else he could imagine Dean doing. Of course, his invitation had been horrendously last minute, which was his fault, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. When the black car pulled up, Cain almost collapsed to the ground in relief, but he straightened his spine and turned to face the vehicle instead. His face remained neutral until Dean climbed out of the car; he was wearing cheap sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

 

It was the sloppiest he’d ever seen the young man.

 

“Hey,” Dean said with a warm smile, walking up to him, clearly glad he was free of Crowley’s claws. “You look nice… _Really_ nice.” Dean’s eyes trailed over him and then realization dawned over his face. “Oh shit, I look like crap… I’m sorry- Crowley just drove me straight over- I didn’t know-.”

 

“Shh.” Cain touched Dean’s lips with his fingers. “It’s alright… It’s not a… _normal_ party,” he admitted slowly.

 

“What kind of party is it?” Dean asked, his head tilting to the side.

 

Cain wrapped an arm around him and walked him away from the hotel and toward another building entirely. It was nondescript and they were walking down the alley toward a door that had a single security light over it. “A themed party.”

 

“What’s the theme?”

 

Cain knocked once and then a man opened up, looking them over. “Cain,” he told the bouncer. “I should be on your list.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” the man said, his voice deeper than he looked. “Go on in… Is… _he_ your plus one?”

 

“Yes.” Cain pulled Dean closer. “He is.”

 

Dean continued to be confused as they walked inside and down a set of stairs until they were heading toward a club that smelled of smoke and alcohol. Along the way they passed several interesting characters; there was a ponygirl and her master, and at the end of the hall there was a little and her caretaker. Cain could feel Dean understanding as they came to step right into the threshold.

 

“It’s a BDSM party,” Dean whispered.

 

“Yes,” Cain said as they stepped off into the shadows so he could think quickly and assess the situation. “I was invited by a colleague with whom I haven’t spoken in ages. Her name is Abaddon and while she is not my… _favorite_ person, I did not want to decline her invitation either.”

 

“Well, why do you need me here?” Dean asked, clearly nervous. He looked like a caged, wild animal, ready to flee the scene at any moment.

 

“Abaddon has it in her mind that in order for any Dom to come, they must come with their subs. I haven’t had a sub in years and she _knows_ that… but what she doesn’t know is I’ve met you.” Cain sighed and realized he was about to sound horribly desperate. “If you could pose as my permanent sub for one night, I will pay you triple what I paid you a few weeks ago.”

 

Dean stammered a few times and Cain could see the wheels turning in his hand. “Three… three _thousand_ dollars? To do this?”

 

“I realize it is unfair, in fact I’m disgusted with myself entirely, but…” He sighed. “I have an awful rivalry with that woman… This is _not_ how things go in this community, I am being a terrible Dom in asking this of you at all.”

 

Dean shrugged a little. “Okay,” he said. “But I want you to promise me if I’m sayin’ Impala, we get out of here.”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“And I want you to promise me you won’t let someone else touch me.”

 

Cain nodded. “That is fair, Dean.”

 

“Good.” Dean sighed, shook himself all over, met his eyes, and said, “So, what do I gotta do.”

 

Cain’s lips went into a thin line. “You won’t like this part.”

 

* * *

 

Cain was right.

 

He didn’t like it. In fact, he hated it, but not for the reason that seemed so obvious. He didn’t hate the get up because it seemed demeaning - he was naked and on his hands and knees and attached to a collar and a leash, which was the only thing Cain had on hand that he could hide in his suit jacket.

 

It wasn’t because people were grinning and whistling at him.

 

It was because the fucking floor was dirty and he was getting it on his hands and knees. Plus, his knees already ached, and he’d probably only been on the floor for fifteen minutes. Cain was very careful and no one stepped on his hands, which he thought was thoughtful.

 

“Nice pup,” some guy in all leather said to Cain. “He purebred?”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. Were BDSM people into _dog_ play? _Jesus_. _Fucking weirdos._

 

“That isn’t quite the play he’s into,” Cain said, as if he speaking Dean’s mind, placing a hand on top of his head with affection anyway.

 

“He’s got a good ass to spank.”

 

Cain made a noise of agreement and Dean blushed at the implication. God, was this even real? Was this _really_ happening to him? It felt so damn surreal. He dared to look up at Cain, unsure if he should speak or not. Was he allowed to talk? They hadn’t gagged him, which was a relief.

 

“Bet it jiggles when he walks.”

 

That made him cringe; okay, so _yeah_ he was fat, but did this guy have to rub it in? Fuck.

 

“Excuse us, I believe I see someone I know,” Cain replied, lightly leading Dean away. He was just glad Cain kept it at a slow and easy pace, since he wasn’t used to walking around on all fours.

 

“Can I get up now?” he asked once they stopped again, far away from the guy who wouldn’t leave them alone.

 

Cain glanced down at him. “You may rest on your knees, but you may not stand up,” he replied, and Dean sighed as he sat up on his knees, feeling way too exposed. He had no shame in his nudity, and he _was_ a hooker; he did what his john said unless it endangered his life or someone else’s. However, that didn’t stop him from feeling awkward.

 

“Is your girlfriend here so we can leave?” he hissed, finally feeling fed up, especially when everyone kept eyeing him like he was some type of meat.

 

Cain huffed. “I don’t see Abaddon-.”

 

“ _Cain_ ,” came a woman’s voice, making them both turn to look.

 

A redheaded woman was leading some poor kid around on a leash, just like Dean’s, but it was shorter and tighter. Dean immediately felt sad for the poor boy; he was up on his knees, walking around with a pained expression. It didn’t help that he had rings through his nipples which had chains attached to the leash. Each time she tugged, he whimpered, and Dean gasped when he saw the blood trickling down the kid’s chest and stomach.

 

“Abaddon,” Cain said, his voice cold and unhappy. “Who’s this?”

 

“Hm?” Abaddon glanced down at the boy. “Oh, _him_? This is Samandriel. Isn’t he a _darling_? Picked him up from Alastair.”

 

Dean felt Cain stiffen as if he were angry, which if he were honest, he didn’t _blame_ Cain. He was pissed off too. Samandriel looked too young to be there in the first place, not to mention he was in pain.

 

“Alastair is a disgrace,” Cain growled.

 

“And you’re _not_?” Abaddon asked with a derisive laugh. “Please, do you expect me to believe that _he_ is your sub full time?” Abaddon gestured at Dean as if he were below her. Dean glared back at her.

 

“He is-.”

 

“He _isn’t_ ,” she replied with a grin. “I saw him climb out of Crowley’s car. Your boy is a _prostitute_. I’m sure you paid him a pretty penny to come here tonight, to make you _seem_ important, when you’re _not_.”

 

Dean bristled as Abaddon began to berate Cain. It was gross and insulting and Dean wanted nothing more than to say he _was_ Cain’s, but he held his tongue, just in case that wasn’t alright. Besides, he _wasn’t_ Cain’s. He was his own person, except for when Crowley handed him over to some john.

 

“We’re leaving,” Cain said sternly.

 

“Yes, run away Cain. Run away and hide in your lonely penthouse. You’re pathetic, old man. You’ve lost your touch.” Abaddon laughed and then yanked Samandriel away.

 

Dean flinched and looked up at Cain in worry. Even from his place on the ground, he could see Cain’s jaw was tight and there was a little vein popping up along his temple. He’d never seen Cain look so _angry_.

 

“Daddy?” he asked quietly, hoping to soothe Cain’s anger. He pressed his face against Cain’s hip and tried to be affectionate. “Are we going now?”

 

“Yes,” Cain snapped, his voice irate and clipped.

 

“Okay.”

 

Cain helped him up and then they were walking away to find Dean’s clothes again, so he could get dressed, and head out to the car. Dean had a feeling he would be soothing Cain’s wounded pride all evening.

 

“I am sorry I put you through that, Dean,” Cain said once they were settled in the car. “I will not do it again.”

 

Dean bit his lip and dared to touch Cain’s arm with his hand. “Hey, it’s okay-.”

 

“I will get your money as soon as I take you home.”

 

“Oh-.” Dean gulped and realized this was a dangerous game. Showing Cain where he lived? Not only was it embarrassing, but what if Cain turned out to be a stalker? “That’s okay, I can walk from the bar-.”

 

“That’s senseless,” Cain replied. “I don’t mind.”

 

He  let out a long sigh. “Okay, I’ll give you directions.”

 

* * *

  

Sam frowned as he peered through the curtains.

 

Dean was outside, climbing out of a fancy car that didn’t belong in their part of town. There was also an older man with him and he was walking Dean up to the door, despite Dean obviously trying to get him to leave.

 

Who the fuck was bringing Dean home so late? And since when did Dean go out with men?

 

The living room door opened up soon enough and Dean was shutting the door firmly in the guy’s face. Sam frowned as he looked at Dean from his spot by the window.

 

“ _Jesus_ , Sammy! What the fuck are you creepin’ in the dark for?” Dean demanded as he placed a hand to his chest.

 

“Who was that?”

 

“Nobody.”

 

“Liar.”

 

“He isn’t anyone,” Dean replied stubbornly as he went to sit and take his shoes off. “You should be in bed.”

 

“Who _is_ that, Dean? He your boyfriend?” Sam walked over and smacked the TV controller out of Dean’s hand, which made his brother stare at him in shock. “Is he?”

 

“What the _hell_ , Sam?!” Dean leaned over to pick up the controller where it had landed on the floor. “What’s your problem?”

 

“My _problem_? _My problem_?!” Sam felt as if he were going to lose it and punch Dean in the face, but he managed to hold his temper. “My problem is that you’re running around with random people and keeping secrets from us! My problem is that you’re never here and all you think about is yourself!”

 

Dean stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, as if he’d lost his damn mind. Sometimes, Sam knew, the truth hurt. “Are you _serious_? All I think about is _myself_?!” Dean stood up and gestured all around. “The _only_ reason you even have a house to live in is because of _me_! I gave up _my life_ for you! For you and Claire and Adam and Jesse!”

 

“Yeah?! Well, then how come _I’m_ the one who’s been feeding the kids and making dinner?! How come I’m the one who’s been watching them at night and giving up my social life and homework time?! How _come_ , Dean?!” He felt his hands begin to curl into angry fists. “Maybe I just want to be a normal kid for once and go to my friend’s house at night and not have to watch a nine year old kid. That’s _your_ job, Dean. You’re the adult.”

 

“So, _I_ get to make the sacrifices, always?!” Dean demanded, finally standing up, looking angry and fed up.

 

Sam nodded. “Yeah. That's what that means.” He watched Dean’s jaw clench and unclench, before daring to continue. “It’s not fair, I know, and it sucks, but you took on this role, Dean. You took on this responsibility. No one _made_ you. So, you better stop running around at night all the damn time and then come home and bitch about being tired and not doing your fucking job.”

 

Maybe it was wrong of him to tell Dean how to run his life, but he wanted to go out, have fun, have a good senior year. He wasn’t a permanent babysitter and neither were Adam and Claire. If Dean wanted to take on the responsibility of Jesse, then Dean had to suck it up and be a parent.

 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said as he looked away. “I’ll be better.”

 

“Good.” Sam shook his head and glanced at the door. “I hope that old dude doesn’t have the clap.”

 

Dean’s jaw clenched again. “Sammy, don’t make me hit you.”

 

He shook his head. “And be like dad?”

 

That made them both pause. He wasn’t sure where all of the animosity for Dean was coming from, but maybe it was because he was still in a bad mood over Ruby. Maybe it was because he was tired of taking care of kids that weren’t his. Maybe it was because he was due for a moody breakdown. Either way, he knew he’d cut Dean deeper than necessary, but he wasn’t going to take it back now.

 

Dean didn’t respond, he just looked at him like he’d reach over and slapped Dean’s face. Sam just stared back, challenging Dean to disagree, before Dean finally gave up and walked off toward the stairs to go to bed.

 

“Night, Sam,” he muttered.

  
Sam watched Dean go and when he heard the door open and close, that was when the guilt hit him. Maybe he’d make Dean breakfast in the morning, but tomorrow was Sunday, which meant he could sleep in. He sighed as he checked the front door to see if it were locked and then he was also going to bed, knowing full well he wouldn’t be up in time to fix breakfast for Dean as an apology.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added in Adam's storyline, mainly because I figured he deserved a storyline. He is with Michael, who is a little older than him, in this Michael's about Dean's age; Adam is 17, read at your own risk. The tags have been adjusted accordingly.

Getting out of bed was impossible.

 

He didn’t even have the _desire_ to get out of bed, let alone the energy to complete the act. It was Monday and Dean knew he needed to make breakfast and get lunches together, but he couldn’t get up. Instead, he was lying on his side, staring out the window, feeling lost and drained.

 

The kids didn’t need to know he was hooking to make the money they made and Dean knew Cain was coming by later with cash; he had only asked he do it during the day when the kids were in school. But what if he couldn’t even climb out of bed long enough to accept the check? Three thousand dollars was a lot of money; they could pay off bills, he could buy them so much food that their cabinets would be stuffed for a month or more… but that wasn’t what he planned on doing with the money.

 

No.

 

He was going to stash it away with the one grand.

 

Four _thousand_ dollars.

 

Dean shut his eyes as he tried to picture that much cash, but it was impossible to envision.

 

What did that look like? Did he cash the check or let it sit? Did checks expire? Hell, he wasn’t even sure he had a bank account. Should he get a bank account? Savings accounts? How did those even work?

 

Dean rolled over and pressed his face into the shitty pillow that felt dirty; he desperately needed to buy himself a new one, but that wouldn’t happen either. The money he earned from Cain was going to be used for the kids and the things they needed. Like school supplies, school fees, school _lunches_. They could have _school_ lunches.

 

But only if he could get out of bed.

 

Dean felt tears fill his eyes as he even entertained the idea of getting up and physically doing _stuff_. It was too much. Especially with Sam’s final words looming over his head. _And be like Dad?_ He shuddered at the thought; it was his worst nightmare to be a carbon copy of John Winchester. Was he becoming his father? For a while he’d assumed _no_ , but now he just didn’t know.

 

“Dean? Where’s breakfast?” came the inevitable question and heavy knock on the door from Sam. “Dean?”

 

Instead of answering, he pulled his blanket a little tighter around his body. Sam knocked again and Dean wanted to just _die_. There was too much weight on his shoulders. It was too much, _it was all too much_.

 

“Dean? Are you awake?” Sam knocked louder. It wasn’t making him feel any better. “ _Swear to God, Dean_.”

 

He shuddered and finally forced himself to get up, walk to the door, and open it. Sam recoiled back a bit and stared at him with surprise. “I’m up,” he said, his voice so monotone, he didn’t even recognize himself.

 

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, but he didn’t answer.

 

Dean slid past Sam and made his way down the steps, feeling like a zombie with every lift of his foot. Right. Left. Right. Left. One foot in front of the other.

 

The kids were sitting at the table all looking confused as Dean kicked into ‘get shit done’ mode and began to dole out cash for lunch.

 

“Wait, school lunches? Like, food with money?” Adam asked with raised eyebrows. He could only nod. “What about breakfast?”

 

Dean turned and opened the freezer to remove a box of Eggo waffles to start toasting in the toaster for them. “There’s breakfast,” he said before turning to trudge back up the stairs, ignoring the looks of confusion along the way.

 

His room wasn’t much, with the smallest of windows, dingy curtains, and with a twin sized bed that was taken from a garage sale used, it was the only place he could escape for a little while. It wasn’t much at all, since the previous owners had converted the old closet to be a small child’s room, but it was his now.

 

As he sank down on the bed, Dean remembered how when they’d first moved in, he’d felt a sense of pride. They’d gotten the house with Ellen’s help and he always made sure to pay the rent on time, which was the _only_ bill he ever managed to pay on time. Everything else, he was always a day or two late if not longer.

 

_Because you’re a failure who didn’t even finish high school. You’re a loser. A stupid, fat loser._

 

Dean pressed the pillow over his head, trying to banish the dark cloud away. However, it didn’t go anywhere, so he focused on the sounds coming from downstairs instead, until they faded. Soon, Dean realized the kids were gone, on the bus, and off to school. He was alone in the house and it needed cleaning. He needed to scrub the bathroom tiles desperately and the kitchen’s dishes needed done. Plus, the yard needed mowed and the front porch cleaned off.

 

He sighed and shut his eyes again, ready to fall off of sleep’s precipice. One more moment and he would be out, but then, the doorbell rang.

 

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” he whimpered, feeling too pathetic to get up again, but he forced his legs to drop over the edge of the bed. By the time he pushed up, the doorbell rang again. “Coming,” he called slightly, not even close to loud enough for the person to hear.

 

Dean shook himself and forced his body to hurry down the steps and to the front door, pulling it open, and not caring that he was in his underwear and a t shirt. Until he saw it was Cain and then he _definitely_ gave a damn.

 

“Oh,” he said. “Shit, sorry- I’m not awake yet.” No matter how many times he ran a hand over his eyes, Dean knew it wouldn’t help. He looked like shit and that was that.

 

“Good morning,” Cain said slowly. “May I come in?”

 

“Uh, the house is a total wreck, trust me you don’t want to-,” Dean attempted to protest. If he were honest, Dean would have told Cain that he didn’t want him seeing the squalor they lived in, but he was too proud to say _that_.

 

“I don’t mind,” Cain replied with a shrug.

 

Dean sighed, leaning heavily against the frame of the door. Did he look as exhausted as he felt? From the look on Cain’s face, that was a definite _yes_. “Okay,” he finally relented, slowly pulling away from the door to let Cain in. “It only looks bad, I swear.”

 

Cain took a step inside and then Dean shut the door, putting them back into darkness. He fumbled, tripped, and stumbled his way to flip on the lamp on the table next to the couch, flinching at the trash and piles of clothing. Clearly, he needed to do laundry too.

 

“Sorry,” he said again, finally sinking down on the couch tiredly, covering his eyes for a moment to rub the sleep out of them. “I’m super tired. Had a long night - well, you were there, you know.”

 

“I was there,” Cain agreed, his voice quiet as he stood in front of him. “If what I ask of you is too much, then I will not ask it of you, Dean.”

 

“No!” Dean startled and stared up at Cain in fear. Was Cain going to stop asking for him? Had he screwed them _again_? “I swear, it’s not like that- it’s not… I just had a long night-...” He let out a long sigh.

 

“You look exhausted.” Cain slowly sank down on the couch, sitting on the edge as if he were afraid to stain his clothes, which in all fairness, was probably a possibility.

 

“I _am_ ,” he muttered.

 

Cain glanced around at the living room and then began to take off his suit jacket, unbutton his sleeves, and roll them up. It was fucking hot.

 

“What are doing?” he dared to ask.

 

“You go upstairs and sleep,” Cain said as he gestured at the stairs. “I assume that is where you sleep at least.”

 

“Yeah… it is… What are you doing?” he repeated with a frown. Was Cain going to clean his house? The guy did not seem like the _cleaning_ type; he probably had enough money to hire someone to do that for him.

 

“I’m going to help you out,” Cain replied with a shrug. “Least I can do, you do so much for me-.”

 

“You _pay_ me.” There it was, the truth of their relationship out in the open. He was a hooker and Cain was his john. One of many johns he’d had in only two weeks. Crowley liked to keep him busy. “Cain, you pay me to have sex with you, we are not in a relationship. The only thing you owe me is cash or check.”

 

As soon as he said it, Dean wanted to take it back and to apologize for saying something so rude and mean spirited. Cain didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

 

“I see,” Cain replied quietly. “What if I told you I wanted to make it more permanent?”

 

He blinked and then stood up, unable to take that sort of information so early in the day. “I… I have to do dishes.”

 

“Dean.”

 

He shook his head and hurried off to the kitchen to turn the faucet on and start scrubbing. This could not be happening, not to him; he didn’t _get_ offers like the one Cain just gave him. Not from rich men for certain.

 

“Dean,” Cain said again, his voice gentle.

 

“You can’t want to make _this_ more permanent.” He spun around and gesticulated at the ugly house, with floors that needed bleached and scrubbed, walls that were cracked, and with so much laundry he didn’t even know where to begin.

 

“I’m a wreck! My _life_ is a wreck! I have four kids who do _not_ give a damn about anyone but themselves! I dropped out of high school at sixteen, I didn’t even pass the tenth grade! I can’t read for shit because it makes _zero_ sense to me!” He didn’t even realize he was yelling until he couldn’t stop, “I hate myself, I wake up in the morning and I _hate_ myself! I’m a _whore_. I get paid to fuck old men and suck their cocks because I don’t have any other life skills to get a better job!”

 

Cain held up both of his hands and then walked over to lightly place his hands along his shoulders, moving slow and easy. “I don’t mind any of those things,” Cain whispered, “Of course, the last bit could change. I can give you a better job, you won’t have to want for _anything_.”

 

“You don’t even know me,” Dean spat back, feeling his eyes fill with tears. “You don’t know me or my life or my kids.”

 

“I’m happy to get to know you and your children.”

 

He huffed out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t take charity. I _hate_ charity.”

 

“This isn’t charity,” Cain said evenly. “This isn’t me taking pity on you, this is me taking interest in you. I’m a Dom, Dean, I want to take care of you.”

 

He shook his head ‘no’ over and over again. Cain couldn’t _want_ him. He was not worth being wanted, by anyone, least alone Cain. “You don’t deserve me,” he replied stubbornly, his voice wavering on breaking. “I’m a mess. I just want to sleep.”

 

“You’re depressed,” Cain said, sounding like the true voice of reason. It was so easy to nod and then fall against the man’s chest, begging Cain to support him, which he did. Cain wrapped his arms around him and ran his hands over the back of his head over and over. It was so damn soothing.

 

“I hate myself,” he whispered. “I fail the kids all the time and they know it. I’m never home and I _need_ to be home for them… but we _need_ money. I can’t give up money or we’ll be on the street or worse.”

 

“Then, let me help you,” Cain replied quietly. “Please, Dean.”

 

“It’s too generous- I can’t- I’m sorry.” He shook his head, finally pulling back and supporting himself. “You’re nice, Cain, and-.”

 

“Dean.”

 

“What?” he asked, completely exasperated.

 

“What is the difference between taking my money after we have sex, then letting me take care of you?”

 

Dean opened his mouth to answer and then shut it again. “There’s no strings attached,” he finally managed to say. “In the first one. I’m not _with_ you-.”

 

“Do you not want to be?” Cain asked.

 

He blushed and ducked his head. “I _do_ … but if you’re with me, that means you’re with them, too. I can’t just be bringing people into my life and then disappoint them, okay?”

 

“I have no intention of disappointing you or them.” Cain held up three fingers in an oath. “Scout’s honor.”

 

He wanted to say yes, he _wanted_ to agree, but if he did, Dean knew bad things would start happening. But, at the same time, a nap sounded amazing. Slowly, he turned his eyes to back staircase and bit his lip, pondering as hard as his mind would allow him. “Okay,” he finally said, feeling his shoulders slump and give in. “Okay, but nothing crazy at first. Take it slow. _Slow_.”

 

Cain nodded. “Go upstairs, sleep, I’ll clean.”

 

“Okay.” Glancing back at the messy kitchen, a pang of guilt filled his chest, but then Cain was marching him to the stairs, and he was going up them without a second thought.

 

 

Ruby was by her locker with Anna hanging on her like she were never going to leave her side. Sam sighed and steeled himself before walking up to her, ready to assault her with apologies. Even if he didn’t really think he _owed_ her an apology, it was better safe than sorry.

 

“Hey,” he said slowly.

 

Ruby looked over at him, clearly unimpressed. “What do _you_ want?”

 

“I wanted to say sorry,” he replied. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings Ruby. I didn’t… I mean I didn’t _mean_ to.”

 

She shrugged a little and continued to mess around in her locker, but she wasn’t really doing anything. Sam could tell she was stalling. “Yeah?”

 

“ _Yeah_. I’m really sorry. Really.” Sam gulped and glanced down and then back up to give her the classic puppy eyes. They always worked on Dean.

 

“Damn it, don’t give me _that_ face.” She sighed and then turned to hug him. “I forgive you, I overreacted. I guess.”

 

“Thanks, Ruby.” Sam relaxed as he realized bygones were bygones and they were friends again.  “So, you guys ready to take our chemistry test?”

 

Ruby snorted. “ _No_. I didn't even study.” She looked over at Anna and smiled. “What about you?”

 

Anna shrugged, clearly trying to pretend she wasn’t as responsible as she really was. “I sorta studied, but not really.”

 

“Yeah right.” Ruby linked arms with her and began walking down the hallway, leaving Sam behind. He was left to hurry after them and stand awkwardly behind them as they walked away. “You _totally_ studied.”

 

“Okay _fine_ , but what’s wrong with studying?” Anna asked. “I see nothing wrong with studying. Why is it so wrong? Huh?”

 

“Chill, Miss Librarian, I’m just messing with you. I always get on Stretch, too, don’t I, Sam?” Ruby glanced back at him with a familiar smile and wink.

 

He smiled back and nodded. “Yeah, she does. She also likes to cheat off of me.”

 

That made Ruby stick out her tongue. “Do not.”

 

“Do _too_ ,” Anna and Sam said at the same time.

 

“You know what you guys…” Ruby rolled her eyes as they made it into class. “Fuck you.”

 

He and Anna broke out into a laugh as they settled down in their seats to start class and take the dreaded test. Sam smiled at Ruby and Ruby returned his smile. All was right with the world.

 

 

Telling her male gym teacher that she was on her period and couldn’t participate in class was always a treat. He always looked extremely uncomfortable and let her sit and do nothing. She also got a free pass to wander the hallway under the pretense of going to the bathroom.

 

Claire made her way to the first floor girls room, letting herself in with a tired push of the door. She hadn’t seen Krissy or Alex, but that didn’t mean anything. The bathroom was empty when she let herself in and she dropped her bag by her feet to lean forward and look at her eyes. They were tired with dark bags hanging under them like black bruises. “Ugh, Jesus,” she muttered in disgust as she dug around in her purse for some makeup.

 

As she was pressing some concealer to her skin the door opened and Alex walked in. “Figured I’d find you in here.”

 

Startling, Claire spun around. “Alex-.”

 

Alex walked up to her and soon they were standing close. Too close; she could feel Alex breathing. “You beat up Krissy. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about it?”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, which she really was. Beating up Krissy had not been her plan. “It just… it _happened_. I wasn’t even thinking when I did it.”

 

“You really think that’s going to protect you?” Alex laughed. “Better watch your back, _bitch_. Cody and Connor know what you did and they’re not happy about it, because _I’m_ not happy about it.”

 

Claire gulped a little and tried to play tough, her face an angry mask. “Fuck you, Alex.”

 

Alex laughed and then Claire watched her remove a box cutter from her pocket. It was small, but she could see the blade was sharp. Attempting to step back, Claire felt her body press into the sink. Alex had cornered her. “Look, I liked you Claire, you were cool, but I guess you’re just a bitch who thinks she’s tough.”

 

“Alex…” Her heart was beginning to speed up, pounding against her chest as her eyes stayed on the blade. Was Alex going to cut her in the bathroom? “I said I was sorry.”

 

“Not good enough, bitch,” Alex spat back and Claire gasped when she slashed her cheek quickly with the sharp blade. It happened so fast and the blade so sharp, it didn’t even hurt. One moment she was fine and the next she was bleeding. “Next time,” Alex said, pressed the corner near her throat, “I’ll aim for here. So, watch your back, whore.”

 

Claire gulped, her fingers pressing against her face, not able to say anything else. Alex finally stepped back and walked out of the bathroom as if nothing had happened. As soon as the door shut, Claire grabbed her bag and bolted from the bathroom as fast as she could. Rounding a corner, she ended up smacking right into Randy, the guy who cleaned the school. His horned rimmed glasses went askew as she ran into his chest, and she gasped as he reached out to hold onto her before they both fell.

 

“Oh, Claire,” he said, quickly releasing her. “I’m sorry. That was probably my fault.” He smiled a little and she backed up to be out of his touch. She’d heard things about Randy - not the good kind. “You okay? You’re bleeding-.”

 

“I’m fine,” she spat before hurrying around him and walking down the hall toward the office. As soon as she stepped into the main lobby, she went up to the phone and began to dial out for her house, not caring if she were allowed or not. Dean had to come pick her up. Immediately.

 

The phone rang a few times before a voice she didn’t recognize answered, “Hello?”

 

Claire frowned. “I’m sorry- I think I have the wrong number… I’m looking for Dean Winchester.”

 

“He’s asleep at the mom-. Oh, I apologize, he’s coming downstairs, who is calling?”

 

Her frown only deepened. “It’s _Claire_ , who’s this?”

 

There was a muffled conversation on the other end and then Dean was finally answering, “Claire? What’s up?”

 

“Who is that?”

 

“Uh… I’ll explain later. What’s wrong?”

 

“I want you to come pick me up.” She glanced over her shoulder as she saw Randy come down the hall toward the lobby. “Now.”

 

“Are you alright?” Dean asked slowly.

 

“No… Please just come get me, Dean. I don’t care what you tell them, just come get me.” She hung up and began to walk the opposite direction of Randy, but she had a feeling he was going to follow her. Breaking into a jog, Claire rushed toward the lunch room; Sam had lunch now, she could hide with him.

 

“Claire, wait up!” Randy called. “I got a band aid!”

 

“Go _away_ ,” she snapped back as she went to throw open the door, but he had her elbow. “Hey!”

 

“Easy, easy, I just wanna patch you up.” Randy held up the band aid like a peace offering. “That’s all.”

 

“Don’t touch me,” she said. “I know what you did to Elizabeth and Jamie last year.”

 

Randy sighed and pressed the the band aid into her hand. “Yeah, I won’t ever live that down, but it’s not true. If it were, I wouldn’t be working here anymore. I don’t touch young girls, alright? Not that way.” He sighed and took a step back. “I hope you’re alright.”

 

“I’m _fine_.” Claire gave him a dark look before shoving the door open, dropping the band aid to the floor and rushing out of the office and off to have lunch with Sam. If she had her way, she wouldn’t be going back to school again.

 

 

After Claire hung up, Dean was surprised to see the house was so damn _clean_. The couch was clear of trash, clothes, and it looked the cleanest he’d ever seen it. The floor was vacuumed - when had they gotten one of those? - and the kitchen smelled of bleach and lemon. Cain had put some serious work while he’d been asleep.

 

“Wow, shit,” he said, looking around with wide eyes. “Man, this- You…” He turned his eyes on Cain and stared at him with affection. “Thank you.”

 

Cain nodded and half smiled. “Are you hungry?”

 

He knew he should pick up Claire, but without a reason, he didn’t see the need to go and get her. For all he knew, she just wanted to cut class, which she would do with or without his help. “Starving,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t eat that much around here.”

 

“Yes,” Cain agreed as he closed the distance between them and touch his face, rubbing his thumb along the sharpness of his cheekbone. “That will change.”

 

He smiled shyly and glanced down at the floor. “Thanks again. This is real nice of you.”

 

“I am glad you are happy.” Cain gestured at the couch. “Sit, watch TV, relax.”

 

Dean snorted. “I don’t know what any of those things entail.”

 

Cain chuckled and kissed his temple, sliding a hand down to grope the meat of his ass. “Daddy wants you to relax,” he whispered right again Dean’s ear, which made him shudder all over. “I want my little boy to sit and watch TV and be good.”

 

Dean gulped as he sank down onto the couch. “Okay,” he said, looking up at him with a boyish smile. “I can do that.”

 

“Good boy.” Cain placed a hand along the back of Dean’s head and then he was walking off toward the kitchen.

 

Slowly, Dean turned his eyes on their small TV and turned it on; they didn’t have cable, so the channels were limited, but he eventually did find a cartoon to watch. It was better than watching the news or some nature documentary. It ended as quickly as he began, but then afterward, _Sesame Street_ came on and that made him blush as he perked up to really listen and pay attention.

 

 _Sesame Street_ was a good resource to learn how to read, which was the only way he could tolerate learning at all; they didn’t patronize him because the letters made zero sense and everything was jumbled up most of the time. It also didn’t make fun of him or call him lazy because it took him forever to read and most of the time he just gave up. It was too much most of the time. However, he still felt embarrassed when Cain came out into the living room with a plate of food and he was sitting on the couch, in his underwear still, watching a children’s show.

 

“We don’t got much to watch,” he said quickly, as if that would cover up the real reason he was watching. Cain sat beside him, handing a plate with food over. It looked _good_ and not like the crap he had in his kitchen. “You go grocery shopping?”

 

“No,” Cain replied. “I made this with what you had in your kitchen.”

 

“Oh… Well, _shit_.” He smiled shyly and began to eat. “S’good.”

 

Cain nodded. “There is no shame in watching educational programming.”

 

He blushed. “I’m twentyshixsh,” he said around a mouthful before swallowing. “I… I shouldn’t need to watch this stuff.”

 

Cain glanced over at him. “ _But_?”

 

He huffed out a sigh and glanced down in shame. “I’m stupid.”

 

“Somehow I doubt that.”

 

“I _am_. I can’t read well, I can’t write well either… I was never good in school, I _hate_ to read books. Takes me forever, I just give up.” Dean sighed and stuffed his mouth with food again to shut up.

 

Cain frowned and began to pet the back of his head again. He loved it and eagerly slid a little closer so Cain didn’t have to reach as far. “Why is that? Explain a little more.”

 

“I dunno. The letters are all weird…”

 

“Weird, how?” Cain asked, gentle and prompting.

 

“Backwards sometimes.”

 

“ _Ah_.” Cain nodded thoughtfully, still petting him, which was just _nice_. It made Dean smile and almost feel like purring. “You’re probably dyslexic.”

 

“What’s that?” Dean frowned as he thought on the word. It sounded familiar, but he wasn’t really sure what it was or what it meant.

 

“It’s considered a learning disorder,” Cain began slowly. “Resulting in difficulty reading and writing.”

 

“Oh.” He huffed out a sigh; _of course_ he was fucked up. It wasn’t surprising.

 

“It’s not your fault, Dean.” Cain gave him an encouraging smile. “Now, it might be difficult to start teaching you to read at your age now-.”

 

“I _know_ how to read,” he spat immediately, not wanting to feel more stupid than he already felt.

 

Cain held up a hand. “I know you know how to read. I mean helping you read in a way that will not be so tiring or strainful. There are ways to teach dyslexics how to read… however, if you ever want help…” He trailed off and shrugged a little. “I would be willing to help you.”

 

That made Dean blush and he quickly finished off his lunch. “Oh,” he muttered. “Uh, thanks.”

 

“What’s your Daddy for?” Cain whispered against his ear, which made him squirm, smile, and blush.

 

“Right.”

 

“If you like, I can pick up your siblings from school while you stay and rest here.” Cain glanced at the clock and so did Dean. It was almost time for Sam, Claire, and Adam to get home from school. Jesse would be an hour later. “If you like.”

 

Dean shook his head. “No, no, that’s okay. I can do it.” He slowly handed the plate back to Cain. “But thanks for the offer.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

Slowly, Dean stood up, shaking the fun off. “In fact, it’s probably best if you go home now… I mean…”

 

He kicked himself.

 

That wasn’t how he meant it. It sounded harsher on the way out than it had in his head.

 

Cain slowly stood up and nodded. “I see.”

 

“i didn’t mean it like that, I just… I mean they don’t really know about you, except Sam sorta… and um...“ He shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

 

Cain nodded and made his way back to kitchen, only to return shortly after to pull his jacket back on. “May I come see you tomorrow?”

 

“Uh…” Dean glanced all over at the clean house and he thought on how Cain made him _feel_. All day he’d felt _good_ and it was nice to feel that way, but he couldn’t let Cain come over everyday when they were meant to be going slow. “Maybe. I’ll call you… Slow, remember?”

 

“Of course.” Cain sighed slightly as he pulled on his jacket and made his way to the door. “For the record, Dean, I did enjoy my time here with you. Have a nice night.” With a curt nod, Cain was out the door and Dean was left to keep on kicking himself.

 

One wrong move and it would be over, he could feel it.

 

 

While everyone else had a final period class, Adam had elected to have study hall as his final class period. It was perfect because his study hall teacher didn’t give a damn what they did, which was why he was always in the equipment closet with Mr. Novak on his knees.

 

Michael Novak was the uptight calculus teacher, who was always handing out detentions and pink slips and sending kids to the office. He liked rules and he didn’t like to see them be broken. Except this one rule, which was not to sleep with students. That didn’t stop them from sleeping together.

 

Michael sighed as Adam continued to bob his head slowly, taking more and more of his cock into his mouth. “Shit,” Michael hissed, rising up on his toes. “Gonna- gonna blow-.”

 

He moaned softly, wanting to encourage Michael to finish in his mouth. Usually, he pulled out, just to be “safe”, but Adam wasn’t letting him go anywhere this time. He wanted to taste Michael running down his throat and along his tongue. He wanted to walk back to his locker with a shit eating grin while he thought on Michael bending him over after to fuck.

 

“Fuck!” Michael panted as he came.

 

Adam pulled back so he didn’t choke - he’d been blowing enough dicks to know by now how to pull back enough not to choke on the mouthful. When he did pull back, he cheekily kept his mouth open to show Michael his load on his tongue.

 

“ _Shit_ ,” Michael whispered, his eyes wide in the dim light. “Oh shit- that’s hot…”

 

He swallowed and felt thankful that Michael ate a lot of fruit and healthily. He didn’t taste like a garbage can. “Mmm, you _actually_ don’t taste awful. Thanks for liking citrus.”

 

Michael rolled his eyes and offered his hands to help Adam upright. “We shouldn’t do this,” he said, which was what he always said. Adam knew how to work him over though.

 

He smiled and began to pepper kisses along Michael’s neck and jaw, keeping from kissing his lips out of consideration. “You’re hot,” he muttered, “and I’m seventeen, gonna be eighteen soon, not that big a deal, Mr. Novak.”

 

Michael sighed, his hands and arms wrapping around Adam’s body to keep him close. “No fair,” he said.”You know I like you calling me that.”

 

Adam winked and stepped back to drop his pants and boxers, slowly turning to bend over some equipment stands. He was wearing a plug and had been wearing it most of the day. He’d wanted it to be a surprise for Michael. A smile slid across his face as he heard Michael’s intake of air; he knew Michael liked the surprise.

 

“You’ve been wearing this all day?” Michael asked as he ran a thumb along the smooth end of the plug.

 

“Most of the day,” he admitted. “I put it in during lunch.”

 

“How did you even _get_ one?”

 

He laughed. “Look, I know people who know people who I may have paid to buy this for me… well, for _you_.”

 

He felt MIchael wrap his fingers around the end and slowly remove it. “Oh, that’s just, very dirty…” Michael’s fingers quickly replaced the plug and he pressed into Adam’s hole, rubbing his prostate immediately. “Wet and open, how I like it.”

 

Adam groaned and pressed his forehead to the metal of the stand. The wet and sloppy sounds were enough to make him hard and his cock was quickly bobbing and twitching, aching for release. He knew from experience they didn’t have enough time to fuck, but Michael could definitely finger him until he finished.

 

“Such a sloppy little slut,” Michael mused as Adam continued to whimper. “Shhh.”

 

“Sorry,” he gasped, bracing his legs wider so Michael had more room to play. He couldn’t help but whimper when he felt Michael’s free hand slide down and rub the skin of his perineum and then cup and roll his balls in slow circles.

 

“Do you like this?” Michael asked, his voice low as he continued to press his fingers in deep.

 

“Yeah,” he gasped, his eyes fluttering as he felt his cock jerk. “‘Bout to come.”

 

“Hold it.” Michael’s voice dropped so low that it made him whine. “Good. _Good_.”

 

“I’m holding it,” he whimpered, his voice cracking as he gripped the stand so tight it made his knuckles turn white and his palms bleed. Michael knew how to rile him up and keep him wanting. “Fuck- I can’t- I gotta-.” He rose up on his toes and came, splattering his stomach and metal stain with white strips.

 

“Good,” Michael muttered as he slowly pulled his fingers free and Adam _knew_ he was watching his hole clench and unclench. “Do you want to put the plug back in?”

 

“No,” he gasped. “No- I need a break-.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Carefully, Adam started to stand up and he was glad Michael grabbed his hips and supported him. “Thanks, teach,” he said with a happy smile and fluttering eyelids.

 

“You’re welcome,” Michael muttered against his ear, pressing his lips against his neck. They stayed pressed together, catching their breaths, until there was the muted sound of the bell ringing. “It’s time for you to go home, which is a damn shame.”

 

Adam pouted and slowly turned around to yank his jeans and boxers back up. “I’ll see you Monday?”

 

Michael nodded. “Of course.” He smiled and reached up to tweak his cheek. “You better be ready to take your test or…” He trailed off and raised his eyebrow.

 

Adam grinned because he _knew_. “Yes, _Sir_.”

 

When the sound of the foot traffic died down, Adam let himself out of closet and hurried off toward his locker, where Sam and Claire were already waiting. He frowned as he saw Claire had a cut on her face and Sam was scowling.

 

“Whoa, hey, what happened?” he asked as he tilted Claire’s chin up to look.

 

“Alex,” Sam spat angrily. “Threatened Claire with her brothers.”

 

“Oh _hell_ no.” Adam felt his hands clench into fists as he thought on Claire being threatened. “Look, they give you a problem, you tell us. Got it? You fucking tell us, we’ll put a stop to it.”

 

“I’m not helpless you know,” Claire spat.

 

“Yeah, but two against one? I don’t _think_ so.” Adam looked at Sam. “Right?”

 

Sam nodded. “Right.”

 

“I don’t even want to come back here and Dean didn’t come pick me up like I told him. I’m so pissed at him.” Claire crossed her arms and glared at the floor. “He’s such a dick.”

 

“Lately? Yeah,” Adam agreed. “I don’t know what his problem is… and this morning? What the hell was with that?”

 

Sam looked down and shrugged; it was easy to see he _knew_ something. “I dunno.”

 

“You _so_ know.” Adam grabbed his backpack and then they were walking down the hallway together toward the front doors. “You know what’s up, tell us.”

 

“I saw him with a guy the other day,” Sam whispered. “An older guy.”

 

“Like _with_ him, with him?” Claire asked. “Holy shit, Dean’s gay?”

 

“I don’t know!” Sam threw up his hands helplessly as Adam held the door for them. “Doesn’t make sense to me… I may have yelled at him last night about it actually. Said some stuff I didn’t mean.”

 

“Is that why he was so weird this morning?” Adam asked as they spotted the Impala in the line of cars and parents. Dean was leaning back against it, his arms folded over his chest, his usual stance.

 

“I guess.” Sam blushed and then hurried ahead of them to talk to Dean, but Dean wasn’t having it. He snapped at Sam and then Sam was climbing into the front seat, while they approached slowly.

 

“Hey, man,” Adam said slowly.

 

“Hey,” Dean replied, his voice deeper than usual, like he needed a fucking drink. His eyes turned on  Claire and they softened and widened. “Claire, what happened?”

 

“I _told_ you to come get me!” she snapped. “But you don’t care about me.”

 

“What? Claire, I thought you just wanted to skip class! You should have said something more specific!” Dean reached to touch her face, but she danced out of his grasp.

 

Adam sighed and angrily climbed into the back of the car. If Dean didn’t care about someone, it was _him_. Dean ignored him, didn’t ask him how his day went, didn’t take a stance in his life. He was just wasted space. Pressing his head against the back window glass, he shut his eyes and prayed that Michael would invite him to live in his apartment soon.

  
It would be better than trying to fit in where he wasn’t wanted.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, many things happen in this chapter:
> 
> \- Age play (consensual age play) between Cain/Dean - if this bothers you, don't read the sex scene, however, I will say from a personal standpoint that this moment between them is fairly important, since it allows Dean to entrust Cain more and they grow closer after
> 
> \- Suicide Attempt/Suicidal Thoughts
> 
> \- Bullying
> 
> \- Sexual Assault
> 
> \- Angst (obviously)

“Can I use your laptop?” Claire asked Sam as she leaned against the door frame. “Please?”

 

“It may not connect to the wifi,” Sam said slowly.

 

“I know, but I want to use it. Please?” She stuck out her bottom lip and he nodded, gesturing for her to take it off of his desk. “Thanks, Sam.”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

Snatching up the laptop, Claire hurried back to her room and shut and locked the door. She was glad she was the only girl in the house, it meant she had her own room, while Adam and Sam had to share. Sitting up on her bed, Claire opened the laptop and said a silent _hallelujah_ when the computer connected to the wifi. Three bars, that was enough to go to Facebook and see if Alex or Krissy had said anything about her.

 

The page took forever to load, but when it did, she felt her heart jump. 99+ notifications.

 

She _never_ had that many notifications. Never.

 

Clicking on the drop down list, she began to scan them and saw _some_ were stupid game requests, but they were mostly originating from a post on Alex’s wall. Gulping, she dared to click on it to see what Alex had posted.

 

There were pictures of Krissy’s busted face with the caption - _@Claire Novak is a B I T C H she thinks she can beat up Krissy but she’s just a jealous, lying, W H O R E_

 

Tears filled her eyes as she began to read through the comments. Alex was going on rants about how awful she was and she was a bitch this and a bitch that. How Alex wanted to beat _her_ up and she better watch her back, because her brothers were out there.

 

Others were chiming in, claiming that they would back Alex up and _she_ was a nobody.

 

- _Claire thinks she’s hot shit, but really she’s just a wannabe_

_-She only did it b/c she likes u alex_

_-Claire Novak is a whore_

_-Claire Novak is a bitch_

_-Claire Novak deserves to get her ass kicked_

_-Claire Novak deserves to be RAPED_

_-I’d fuck Claire Novak, she’s hot_

_-fuck her until she’s sloppy and pregnant_

_-Claire Novak wants to fuck ALEX_

_-Teach Claire not to be a lesbian_

_-yeah, she just needs some 8==D_

_-lmao so true_

 

There were tears streaming down her face as she read through explicit comments about them wanting to rape her, fuck her, beat her up. There were too many to report and she had a feeling the staff wouldn’t give a fuck. She was just a teenage girl without any significance on how they could run their website, even though the comments were all against the rules.

 

Part of her wanted to run to Dean, to show him what they were saying, but that would be silly. She was sixteen, she could handle a little bullshit at school. It would blow over and things would go back to normal. The little red x saved her from looking through anymore of the comments, and she was back to surfing tumblr and looking at porn.

 

Sometimes, a girl just needed some relief.

 

* * *

  

Who showed up at someone’s house at six in the morning with a hot cup of coffee from Starbucks in a bad area?

 

Cain, apparently.

 

Dean stared at the man like he’d lost his mind and then realized Cain had probably shown up because he hadn’t called. “Hey,” he said, rubbing his eyes, even though he’d been awake for an hour. “Sorry, I didn’t call you. I know it’s been a couple of days.”

 

“Coffee?” Cain asked, offering it to him like currency.

 

Dean accepted the hot beverage, blowing through the lid, even though he knew that would do exactly _nothing_. “Thanks,” he said. “So, just… in the neighborhood?”

 

“You could say that,” Cain said with a shrug.

 

“Don’t you have a job?”

 

A little smirk played at Cain’s lips and he nodded a little. “I do,” he replied. “I’m in investment banker, remember?”

 

“So, why aren’t you at work?”

 

“I have the day off.” Cain shrugged and then looked up at the house. “I was hoping to spend it with you.”

 

A blush began to build along the apples of his cheeks. Of _course_ Cain had the day off and _of course_ he wanted to spend it with him. “Why?” he asked, unable to help himself. “I’m not that cool.”

 

“You wanted to take things slowly, I am going to respect that,” Cain replied carefully. “However, that isn’t preventing me from wanting to spend time with you.”

 

“The kids got school,” he tried to argue.

 

“You wanted me to get to know them, that was a stipulation, if I do recall.” Cain raised his eyebrow and Dean felt his stomach and heart drop all the way down out of his butt. The eyebrow always made him feel weak in the knees.

 

“I did,” he said slowly, before finally giving up and nodding. “Come in. They aren’t up yet, but that’ll probably change soon.”

 

Cain followed him back inside and they were soon enveloped in darkness. Dean kept the house dark, since he didn’t like the idea of people looking into their windows, not that they had much to steal, but it was better than advertising what they owned.

 

Dean made his way back to the kitchen, where he was packing their lunches, since he didn’t want them to be _too_ spoiled on the school lunches. He was _hoping_ to find another job and end his working for Crowley soon, which would probably cut down on the cash flow by _a_ _lot_.

 

“You are very dedicated,” Cain remarked as he went to stand in the middle of the kitchen, which had somehow become a mess again already, even though it had just been cleaned recently.

 

“It’s my job,” he said with a shrug. “Someone has to care about those kids, and I know their parents don’t, and the State don’t, so may as well be me.”

 

The sound of heavy footsteps were making their way across the ceiling overhead and then Dean steeled himself for the questions to follow as the kids started to appear. How he was going to explain Cain he had _no_ idea, but it was bound to happen sooner or later.

 

“Whoa, who’s the old guy?” Adam asked as soon as he appeared, Sam on his heels.

 

“Uh-.” Dean glanced at Cain to make sure he wasn’t offended before turning to look at Adam and Sam. “Guys, this is Cain, he’s a… friend. Met him at work.” At least that wasn’t a _lie_.

 

“Oh.” Adam shrugged and pouted when he saw the brown paper lunch bags. “Packed lunches? We poor again?”

 

Dean bit his lip and nodded a little. “Yeah, sorta. Just don’t wanna spoil you on the school lunches is all. Where's Claire and Jesse?”

 

Sam wasn’t talking, so Adam trudged ahead, “Claire’s not coming out of her room and Jesse’s in the bathroom.”

 

“Damn it…” Dean sighed and glanced at Cain in hopes he wouldn’t be assaulted as soon as he left, but he had to check on Claire. “Be right back. Help yourself, I made eggs and bacon.”

 

The stairs creaked under his feet as he rushed upstairs, and he could already hear the muffled questions coming from Adam, which he was sure were directed at Cain. God, he’d fed the man to the wolves without any warning. _He wanted to come in, he wanted to get to know them. He should be prepared to suffer the consequences._

 

Claire’s door was shut and there was silence on the other side, which wasn’t normal; usually, she was listening to music or at least making noise as she got ready. But it was radio silence on the other end.

 

“Claire?” he called as he knocked.

 

Still silence.

 

The only sound was from the bathroom and the toilet flushing as Jesse left. He put his hands on his hips and pointed back at the bathroom. “Did you wash your hands?”

 

“Oh. No…” Jesse spun back around and rushed back to quickly splash his hands around int he sink. He’d have to remember to disinfect the door handles later.

 

“There’s breakfast downstairs,” he called after the boy as he rushed passed him and down the stairs. “No running!” It was no use, Dean knew, but he could at least _try_. “Claire? C’mon, quit playin’ around, let’s go!”

 

The door yanked open and Claire was standing on the other side, looking like hell. Her hair was a wild, blonde mess, she had day old makeup smeared under her eyes, which only made the dark circles hanging there look worse. She wasn’t dressed and her skin was so pale, he began to wonder if she were sick.

 

“Can I stay home?”

 

“Jesus, what happened to you?” he asked, completely shocked.

 

“Can I stay home?” she repeated.

 

“Uh... “

 

“It’s a girl thing.”

 

Ah, the P word; the word the boys all hated and didn’t like to talk about, but he was stuck talking to her about it, because he had to be big brother, mother,and father all in one day usually. “Yeah, sure. I’ll call in later, okay?”

 

“Cool.” She shut the door in his face firmly and Dean sighed as he turned to hurry back downstairs.

 

Cain was sitting on a chair and helping Jesse tie his shoes, which made him pause and feel his heart melt for a moment. The bastard was good with kids? Fuck, he was _screwed_.

 

“I got it, I got it,” Jesse insisted as he went to do the other foot.

 

Dean had been trying to show him how to tie his shoes for a while, since apparently he’d never learned, and had let Sam and Adam do it for him. Pausing to watch, Dean felt his heart soar as Jesse succeeded in tying the other shoe. “Hey,” he said with a huge smile, offering a high five. “You did it, man!”

 

“Yeah,” Jesse said with a little smile, which was a first. “Thanks, Mr. Cain.”

 

“You’re very welcome,” Cain said, his voice very serious, since this was a Very Serious Situation™.

 

“Okay, did we all eat?” Dean asked as they heard the bus start to honk.

 

“Yeah” and “yes” soon followed and he handed out the bags via name, except for Claire’s, which he put in the fridge if she wanted it later.

 

“Okay, have a good day you guys, don’t do bad things. All that stereotype shit. Learn somethin’.” He quickly ushered them out the door and then as it shut, he let out a sigh of relief and leaned back against it for a moment.

 

“Now what?” Cain asked.

 

He held up a finger so he could take a moment to himself, but then he was over to the phone and calling the school to let them know Claire wasn’t going and she should be excused for being sick. Then, it was time to do the morning dishes, and after he _really_ needed to see if Bobby would let him borrow his lawn mower. After _that_ , he had planned on going to see if Crowley had anyone for him to fuck for quick cash, but Cain was here now, so he supposed he’d have to find something else to do.

 

Cain stood up as he went to clean and stopped him, grabbing onto his elbow to turn him around. “Do you ever pause for longer than a blink of a moment?” Cain asked quietly, holding him to his chest.

 

“If I do that, then I won’t get anything done,” he replied helplessly.

 

“What needs done?”

 

“The lawn needs mowed, but I gotta check with Bobby and see if he’ll let me borrow his mower again, and then the laundry needs done again, the bathrooms need cleaned, I should probably go out and get some supplies for Claire, and uh- I’m sure there’s something else. There always is.”

 

Dean looked up at Cain and tried not to look so tired, but he knew he looked as exhausted as he felt.

 

“Look, when you’re poor like me, you gotta do it all and keep going all the time. If you pause for just a moment?” He trailed off and glanced down at Cain’s chest; he wasn’t wearing a suit today, it was just a plain shirt, a light jacket, and a pair of jeans day - he _liked_ casual Cain.

 

“If you pause?” Cain prompted lightly.

 

“If you pause then you get weighed down by all the _crap_. You realize your life sucks and it doesn’t get any better and…” He shrugged and coughed to cover up the lump growing in his throat. “So, you just keep doin’ and going and I don’t ever stop. I just go, go, go.”

 

“Hm,” Cain hummed thoughtfully. “And I take it, you _never_ take time for yourself? Not even at night… You just… work and help them and work some more.”

 

“Yeah,” he sighed. It was tiring just to talk about it.

 

Cain pursed his lips in thought. “How about you take a break from that, hm? For today, you take the day to take care of yourself.”

 

He blinked.

 

That was the only response he could muster. Take care of himself? Do something _for_ himself? Take a day to himself? All of those concepts were as wild as unicorns and leprechauns. They didn’t exist in his world or any other reality.

 

“Better yet,” Cain continued, “let _me_ take care of you.”

 

He huffed out a laugh. “Somehow I’m not surprised that’s what you want.”

 

“Is that so wrong?” Cain began to pet the back of his head, which made his eyes half close and he wanted to purr and feel content all day. “To have someone else care for you?”

 

“It’s just not in my vocabulary,” he said with a shrug. “It _sounds_ nice, I just can’t envision it.”

 

“I would like to, if you let me.” Cain just kept on petting him and he sighed, finally giving in and melting against Cain’s body. “My boy needs taken care of and that’s what I want to do.”

 

“Claire’s still here, remember,” he whispered.

 

“Oh, I am aware.” Cain nodded. “I will not proposition you sexually while a minor is in the house.”

 

 _That_ was a relief. At least Cain had fucking manners.

 

“But, you are still my boy and I will still call you such unless said minors are in your presence. As it makes you happy, does it not?” Cain slid his hand around to cup his jaw and Dean sighed happily. It really _did_ make him happy. Too happy.

 

It made Little Dean happy, too.

 

Cain chuckled at the stirring in Dean’s sweatpants. “I see it does.”

 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’ll go the bathroom…”

 

Cain pressed his lips to Dean’s temple and then whispered in his ear, “Does Daddy’s little boy need to take care of himself? Hm?”

 

Dean whined and shut his eyes, trying not to let Cain rile him up more, but it was too late. “Don’t,” he panted. “I gotta- go to the bathroom…”

 

“Then go on, I won’t stop you.” Cain pinched his hip and Dean jumped into gear and went to run up the stairs, even though he almost tripped and fell face forward. As soon as he made it to the bathroom, his pants were down to his thighs and his hands were on his dick like he was fifteen again and needed desperate release from an accidental boner.

 

He was huffing and panting and trying _not_ to, since Claire was across the hall, but it was happening. The head of his cock was red and slick with precome, which helped him slick up his shaft and he teased himself mercilessly until he was biting his lip and trying not to start crying from how good it all felt.

 

He was Cain’s boy and he was going to get off hot and hard like he was a teen again - not that he’d ever been _allowed_ to be a teen. Not even a little. He tried to stop the train of thought, but it was there and killing his hard on. He hadn’t been allowed to be a kid or a teen - his whole life he’d been reared to be an adult since the age of four.

 

Slowly, his boner began to flag, despite him attempting to get it up again. “Damn it,” he whimpered, glaring at his penis. It always failed him at the most inconvenient of times.

 

There was a light knock on the door. “Dean?” came Cain’s voice which made his eyes widen and he quickly yanked his pants up like he’d been caught. “May I come in?”

 

Gulping, Dean pulled the door open with red cheeks. “I’m fine,” he said.

 

“Claire is gone.”

 

“She’s _what_?” He hadn’t even heard her _leave_. “Where’d she go?!”

 

“She said she was going to school, I offered to drive her, but she insisted she walk and then she was out the door…” Cain sighed. “I wasn’t sure if I should go after her or go to you, obviously I chose the latter.”

 

Dean groaned. “Whatever. Whatever- I can’t worry about this right now, I just _can’t_.” He ran a hand through his hair in distress and then Cain was pulling him close again in comfort. He had to admit, that was nice.

 

“I can go and pick her up, drive her there myself.”

 

“No, no I got it. I’m going.” Pulling out of Cain’s arms, he took two steps at a time as he went down them and out to the car to speed after which direction he figured Claire would take. She hadn’t gotten far and was walking with the hood of her jacket pulled up and her hands shoved into her pockets. “Hey,” he called as he pulled up beside her. “Get in.”

 

She paused, rolled her eyes, but turned to climb into the car. “You don’t have to drive me. I got it.”

 

“Thought you said you were having ‘girl problems’.”

 

“I am,” she said with a shrug. “But I forgot I got a test today in English I can’t miss.”

 

“Oh, shit, okay. Hold on then.” Dean stepped on the gas and Baby lurched down the street toward the school. It wasn’t _far_ per se, but it was far enough he didn’t want any of them walking alone.

 

“Who was the old dude?”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Cain. He’s a friend.”

 

“A _close_ friend?” she asked with a smirk.

 

“None of your business… but, maybe, yeah.” He shrugged as he pulled into the fire lane in front of the school. “I mean _maybe_ we’re close, maybe we’re not, stop asking questions.”

 

“ _Touchy_ ,” she replied with a wink. “See you after school. We’ll take the bus, Casanova.”

 

“ _Bye_.” He watched her hop out and hurry inside and it was only when he’d reached the house again that he figured _maybe_ he should have gone in with her, but technically he wasn’t her guardian, John was all of their guardians. John wasn’t around to sign things, so Dean just forged his signature most of the time. It wasn’t like it was hard.

 

Cain was waiting for him inside, sitting on the couch. It was nice to see him in _his_ house, but it was such a shit hole, that Dean hated seeing him there when he lived in luxury in the city. “Is she alright?” Cain asked immediately.

 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “She’s fine, it’s all good.”

 

“Good, now come here.” Cain patted the couch and Dean _saw_ the look. It was the stern Daddy look, so he shuffled over and stood in front of the couch, unsure of whether to sit or stand. “I interrupted you earlier, I apologize if your time was ruined.”

 

“Oh, nah, that wasn’t you…” He shook his head. “Nah- I was… I was thinking about how it felt like I was sixteen again, but it didn’t really.” Dean shrugged and tried to laugh it off, but it wasn’t funny. “I was never a kid or a teen, you know? I’ve been an adult since I was four.”

 

Cain gently pulled him down until he was sitting in his lap. “Do you want to be?” he asked quietly against his ear.

 

“Want to be what?”

 

“Sixteen again.”

 

Dean snorted and began to wonder if Cain were on some type of drugs. The guy was always suggesting wild stuff. “I can’t _be_ sixteen again, man, unless you know how to time travel.”

 

“No, but you can pretend.” Cain began to rub his back in comforting circles.”With me, you can pretend if you like.”

 

 _That_ sounded dirty. Really dirty. Even more dirty than the stuff they’d done in the past. “Like… when we fuck?”

 

“Or when we’re not, age play does not have to be sexual,” Cain pointed out. “If you want, you can pretend to be sixteen again, get into that mindset, _relive_ the years you missed. I’ll take on the duties of your home while you’re with me, you can watch TV, you can sit around in your underwear, you can forget you have responsibility.”

 

Dean gulped as he thought on it some more. If he pretended to be a teen again, he could mouth off, he could pretend they were having dirty, illegal sex, which was a weird turn on. Cain could be his Daddy and his _daddy_. And then when the kids came home, he could shake it off and be in the present all over again.

 

“Sounds like a nice set up,” he admitted with a blush. “I just dunno much about it.”

 

“It is whatever _you_ want it to be. You can set the rules and limits. If I ever do something you don’t like, you just safeword. You can safeword when we’re not engaged in sexual activity, too. Then, the play stops…. and we do not scene when you are upset or in distress. Do you understand?”

 

Dean nodded emphatically. “Okay.”

 

“Good. As long as that is clear.”

 

“So, can we start now?” Dean asked, biting his lip nervously.

 

“Of course. How old are we today?”

 

He gulped and glanced down at his lap. “Sixteen,” he whispered. “Please.”

 

“Of course.” Cain began to pet and rub his back, even sliding his hand up to massage the back of his neck. “Do you want to sit and watch some dirty movies while Daddy makes you brunch?”

 

Oh, _man_ , porn. God, he hadn’t watched porn in years, since he was always busy. He also didn’t have a computer; he had some dirty films in the closet, but he didn’t watch them. “Yeah,” he admitted, feeling breathless and aroused already.

 

“And where are your dirty movies?” Cain asked, his voice low and gentle. It was only making Dean feel hotter, like he needed to get out of his clothes immediately.

 

“In the closet. Under a bunch of boxes, in a black box…”

 

Cain nodded as he slid Dean out of his lap and onto the couch. “Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

 

“Okay…” He couldn’t stop blushing and usually he wasn’t embarrassed over anything, but this was different. Once he was sitting, he lifted his hips and pushed his pants down to reveal the bush at his base, which was damp with sweat and his cock was half hard. He didn’t touch himself yet, he was just waiting for Cain to return.

 

He needed a few breaths to remain calm as he tried not to get overly hard in anticipation. No, he wanted to save that for the porn. The sounds of Cain digging around slowly died down and then he held his breath as Cain walked over to stand in front of the TV and put on a movie. It was some cheesy porn film he hadn’t seen in ages, but Cain winked at him, patted his head, and then went off to the kitchen.

 

The sounds of a woman moaning built up quickly and Dean licked his lips, staring eagerly at her body and how the guy fucked her fast and hard. Soon, his cock was standing and bobbing up against his belly, asking for attention. He wrapped a hand around his cock and began to jerk it, like he did as a teen - not like he did now. Fast, quick, and leaving him panting and desperate for release. His cries echoed the girls on the screen and before he could stop it, he was coming all over his hand and stomach in thick spurts.

 

Clearly, he didn’t jerk it enough.

 

Of course, the only problem with pretending he was sixteen, was that his dick didn’t quite want to stand up right after he’d finished like it had ten years ago. He needed a moment to catch his breath and watch some more, before feeling aroused again. Which he didn’t mind, especially when he could pull his legs up on the couch, slide a hand down, and tease his rim for a while.

 

Eventually, Cain was walking back out to the living room with food, right in the middle of him finally becoming aroused again. HIs cock was hard and he was sucking his fingers to try and finger himself.

 

“Is my boy being _naughty_?” Cain asked him as he sat down in a chair, the plate resting on the coffee table. There was a seriously delicious looking breakfast meal, with green stuff and everything waiting on him to eat.

 

But, Dean nodded, and continued to suck on his fingers, making dirty noises along the way. “Yeah,” he said as he popped them free, reaching down to cup his balls and trail the slick fingers to his ass. “ _Fuck_.”

 

Cain watched and Dean didn’t miss the tent in Cain’s pants. He grinned and slowly sank two fingers into his hole with a groan.

 

“You like this?” Dean asked as he fingered himself slow and deliberately. He couldn’t reach his g spot at the angle he was sitting, but he was doing his best to show Cain what he was doing. “You like… watchin?”

 

Cain nodded, his face a reserved mask. “You’re doing a good job,” he said, his voice very serious. It made Dean whimper and whine, wriggling around helplessly. He loved praise.

 

“Daddy, I’m so horny,” he panted, pulling his fingers out and stretching his hole open so Cain could see him being dirty. “I want your cock in me.”

 

“First you eat your food.” Cain gestured at the meal. “Then I will reward you.”

 

“Okay.” Panting, Dean slid off of the couch and onto the floor to start shoveling the food in. At sixteen he’d been a garbage disposal and that hadn’t changed much, but he hardly had time to eat for himself, which was why he was glad Cain made him stop and eat.

 

It was considerate and it made his chest feel warm and fuzzy.

 

When he sat back to digest for a moment, Dean sat and watched the porn, his eyes focused on the girl’s wet pussy and how she was dripping and it made him stir again. Even though older men got him hot and heavy, he still liked to appreciate a gorgeous woman. Every inch of his body wanted to bury his face in between a woman’s legs.

 

“Shit,” he growled, his voice deep and hoarse.

 

Cain stood up and sat down on the couch, unzipping his jeans to get himself free. “Sit,” he said, gesturing at his cock. “Sit so you can watch.”

 

Nodding, Dean spun around on his knees to take Cain into his mouth first, eagerly drooling on the big cock, making it nice and wet. Cain grunted, but he mostly stayed quiet, his face its usual stoic mask. Once Cain was wet enough for Dean’s liking, he stood up and turned his face to spread his cheeks and show his sloppy hole, before he was sinking down onto Cain’s cock.

 

A moan escaped his throat, as he settled and Cain wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him so his back was pressed up against Cain’s chest. “Oh, _God_. You get me so hot, old man,” he moaned as he focused on the porn and the girl masturbating, while Cain began to fuck him slow.

 

It took him a moment to realize Cain was matching the pace of the girl, so when she rubbed and fingered herself quickly, he was thrusting up into Dean just as fast, but when she slowed down? Dean whimpered and whined at each slow drag of Cain’s hips, feeling his cock slide in deep and then almost back out again over and over. It was torture.

 

“Such a sensitive boy,” Cain muttered as his hand slid up and began to tease Dean’s nipples. The pink buds soon became rosy red as calloused fingers pinched and pulled at them. There was only the sound of the TV and Dean’s whimpers and the slap of Cain’s balls against his thighs.

 

“Daddy,” he whimpered, finally losing himself to the play. “Daddy, _fuck_ me, please. Just fuck me.”

 

Cain’s response was to speed up and rub his chest until it was warm and pink. He gasped and felt his legs spread as wide as he could get them.

 

“Is my little boy going to come?” Cain growled in his ear and Dean nodded as he stared down at his cock. It was almost purple at the tip and smearing precome across his belly. Any moment and he was going to come in a big mess.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Dean whined as he finally felt his cock twitch and jerk. “Yes, yes, _yes_!”

 

The warmth grew to be too much and then Dean was finally releasing; he came so hard he was lying limply on top of Cain soon after, whimpering as he kept coming. Cain reached down and began to jerk him through it, easing more cum out of him until he was painted in it.

 

“My, _my_ ,” Cain mused as he slowed down again to keep Dean stimulated. “My little boy has quite a bit in there.”

 

“Been a while,” he mumbled sleepily.

 

Cain chuckled. They both knew it hadn’t been a while, but it had been a long time since he’d had an orgasm like _that_. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d _ever_ had an orgasm so intense that he just kept on coming. His eyes were heavy with feeling sleepy, even though he knew Cain was still hard inside of him. The man’s stamina was amazing in Dean’s eyes.

 

“You’re not done,” he mumbled.

 

“No, I’m not,” Cain replied gently, his hands now rubbing Dean’s sides, thighs, and hips. “But you are. You’re very sleepy.”

 

“I wanna get you off, Daddy,” he replied, even though it didn’t come out very coherently.

 

“How about I take you upstairs to bed?”

 

“But-.”

 

“If you want Daddy to finish, will you let him rub between your legs while we lie down?” Cain asked quietly and Dean shuddered at the thought. It was so _dirty_.

 

“Yeah,” he whispered as Cain pulled out and there was some shuffling as they righted clothes and then Cain was carrying him upstairs. He clung to his jacket as they headed upstairs to Dean’s room, which wasn’t much of course, but he liked the idea of Cain being there. In his room. There with him when he woke up later. It was all a nice set of thoughts.

 

When Cain laid him on the bed, Dean eagerly became the little spoon. He liked being cuddled, even if he were slightly ashamed to admit it. Cain wrapped his limbs around him, which wasn’t easy in Dean’s small bed, but once they were comfortable, he felt Cain press his cock between his thighs and up against his ass to rub. He panted and whimpered as Cain eagerly made the bed shake.

 

When Cain groaned into the back of his neck, Dean felt something hot and wet press against his balls and ass and he knew Cain had finished on him. He was going to be a mess later, but the idea made him smile.

 

He loved being Daddy’s dirty little boy.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, whore.”

 

“Look, the slut decided to show up to school today.”

 

Claire ducked her head and kept walking down the hall. She had come to school to take her stupid English test, even though Dean had already called her off. She’d made it just in time to take the test, and now she was regretting showing up at all.

 

Everyone was calling her a whore, a slut, a bitch, a cunt. She was a _virgin_ and yet she was now the school whore. And it was all because of Alex. Shoving past some more girls that she didn’t even know, Claire marched up to Alex and tapped her on the shoulder. Alex spun around, still smiling and laughing, but that faded when she saw her.

 

“What’s your problem?” Claire demanded. “Why are you spreading rumors about me? I said I was sorry, okay? I’m _sorry_ I beat up Krissy. She was my friend, too! It’s not like I meant to do it.”

 

Alex smirked and pushed her back. “Because, you’re a whore, _Whore_.”

 

“I’m not!”

 

“Yeah, you are. Daddy didn’t want you anymore because you were a _slut_ , so he walked out on you and your Mom. Then Mommy went crazy and now you live _here_. No one wants you, Claire.” Alex smirked and crowded Claire until she was pressed back against the lockers. “No one.”

 

“Fuck you, Alex!” Claire felt her hands clench into fists as she tried to fight to urge to hit her, too. If she hit Alex, she’d be asking for it then, which was kept her from doing it. With her luck, her brothers and everyone else in the entire school would join in on the fight.

 

“I heard that’s what you _wanted_ ,” Alex said with a cold laugh. “You wanted to be fuck buddies with me, but you were jealous, so you beat up Krissy. Well, news flash bitch, I didn’t want you. I was only your friend because I felt _sorry_ for you. Not because you’re hot or cool or popular. Because you’re none of those things.”

 

Claire felt her lower lip trembling and she was trying so damn hard to not shed any tears. Not in front of Alex anyway. “You’re a bitch, Alex,” she whispered shakily.

 

“Yeah, well, at least I can admit that I’m a bitch.” Alex shook her head and walked off, leaving her up against the lockers feeling as if she were going to collapse.

 

Claire’s eyes fell on Krissy, who looked guilty, as if she were blaming herself for the bad situation. She glared back and spat, “I said I was sorry. You couldn’t just get over it, could you? Fuck you, too.”

 

Before Krissy could respond, Claire stormed over to her locker to open it and get her stuff. Fuck school; she was done with school. She was old enough to drop out and old enough to make her own damn decisions. The locker’s lock went smoothly, but the door wouldn’t open, not until she yanked and almost fell back into a group of students walking behind her. Out of her locker spilled a ton of notes and pieces of paper. The kids in the hallway began to laugh as she unfolded one.

 

Her heart leapt into her throat at what the note read in angry red letters.

 

KILL YOURSELF WHORE

 

Tears filled her eyes as she realized they _all_ had a version of kill yourself written on them, all in different hand. Alex had been busy the night before. Her vision turned white as she tried to gather her stuff, but she gave up and ran down the hall instead, backpack and everything forgotten. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs were on fire; she ran until she couldn’t run anymore and she found herself in the gym. Randy was there, mopping the floor.

 

“Hey,” he said as he straightened and fixed his glasses. “You okay? You’re real pale.”

 

“No,” she whispered. “No. I’m not okay. I’m not.”

 

“You want to talk about it?”

 

The tears were starting to roll down her cheeks now and she knew her face was an ugly red as she kept on crying. “Alex is being _awful_.”

 

“How so?” he asked, remaining where he was standing, leaning on the mop.

 

“She’s spreading lies that I’m a whore and a slut…” She shook her head and swallowed the lump in her throat, before walking up to Randy with her head held high. “She’s making the whole school hate me.”

 

“Hm. High school isn’t fun for everyone,” he said. “I know it wasn’t for me. But, it’s just a blip on your lifespan, it’ll be over before you know it.”

 

If Alex wanted to call her a whore, maybe she would just _be_ a whore. “Did you really not do those things?” she asked.

 

Randy looked away and returned to mopping. “No,” he spat. “It was a false accusation and they had no evidence against me.”

 

She licked her lips nervously. “Maybe we should do them, then.”

 

He startled and dropped the mop. “Claire- I can’t. Not only is it _wrong_ , but I won’t risk going to jail. No way.” Randy shook his head and bent to pick up the mop quickly. “You can get someone else in trouble, not me.”

 

Claire bit her lip and looked away. Of course, even some old man didn’t want her, why had she expected Alex, as hot as she was, to want her. No one wanted her - Alex was right. “Forget I said anything,” she said before turning and hurrying out of the gym.

 

There were some girls hanging out by the bathroom and they all stopped giggling to stare at her. Some of them whispered _whore_ and others called her a bitch on her way down the hall. They weren’t going to stop anytime soon, Alex would see to that - she had three years left in the shithole of a school she went to.

 

Three fucking years.

 

The tears came faster as she wandered aimlessly, unsure of where to go or who to talk to. Dean didn’t want her, her parents hadn’t wanted her, Alex didn’t want her, she had no friends. They were all superficial and quick to leave as soon as Alex turned her back on her. Rounding another corner, she ran into Connor and Cody.

 

_Fucking great._

 

“Hey, little girl,” Connor said with a grin. “Where you running to?”

 

“Leave me a alone,” she replied as she went to step around them, but Cody was pushing her up against the wall so roughly she smacked her head back against the concrete.

 

“You think you’re so tough, don’t you?” Cody said as he held her in place. “Get her pants down, Connor.”

 

“No!” she screamed and fought against them as Connor stepped forward and began to unbutton her jeans to pull them down enough for Cody to get to her. “No! Stop!”

 

Connor’s hands were tearing her panties aside so Cody could grope her, grabbing her roughly to start to shove his fingers into her. She screamed and squirmed and then a classroom door was opening and her eyes widened as she saw Sam’s fist connect hard with Cody’s face. Blood splashed across the walls and one of the teachers was standing in front of her to block her from any other bloodshed as Sam continued to punch Cody in the face.

 

Connor was running down the hall, but she could just make out someone chasing after him. Everything was happening so fast and it took three bigger men to pull Sam off of Cody and get him to stop. She could see Cody’s face was worse than Krissy’s had been; his jaw was hanging so loosely and blood was pouring out of his mouth, it made her stomach churn. Sam must have broken his jaw.

 

“Walk it off, Winchester, walk it off,” Mr. Novak said as he turned to look at her. “You alright?”

 

She nodded as she attempted to get her clothes right and back into place. Security was jogging down the hall as they were finally alerted to the situation. Turning, Claire began to walk down the hall feeling  as if she were in a hazy fog. The world was going so slowly now that the trauma was over and she was fairly certain people were talking to her, but she just kept walking.

 

She walked all the way down the hall and eventually found herself in the art room. No one paid her any mind, not even the teacher. So many people came and went during art class, it was normal for someone new to just pop up. _Why am I here again?_ she found herself thinking, trying to put her mind into the right headspace, and then she remembered.

 

Sharp objects.

 

Exacto knives.

 

“Right,” she whispered before going to dig through a drew until she found a brand new one. Sam had been walked off by another teacher or maybe he would have been there. She could have used him.

 

The blade fit in her hand so easily and so well. Afterward, everything was just red.

 

* * *

 

There were sirens and alarms and the whole place smelled of disinfectant. It was a madhouse, but Dean was winding his way through hallways to find the fucking Emergency Room. He had to find the Emergency Room. He had to find it.

 

“Sir? _Sir_ , are you lost?”

 

Dean blinked and realized he probably looked like a crazy person. “ER. I’m looking for the ER, my sister- she’s here-.” English didn’t make sense anymore, everything was coming out as broken sentences.

 

“Okay, take a deep breath.” The woman approached him and it took him a moment to realize she must have been a nurse. “Take a deep breath for me and tell me your name.”

 

“Dean Winchester,” he said without taking a deep breath. “My sister is here, she’s not really my sister- my _half_ sister. She was brought in, severe bleeding, _please_ -.” The last word came out broken as the emotions finally caught up to him.

 

Receiving a phone call in the middle of the afternoon that Claire had started hacking away at her body with a sharp razor blade during class was the worst moment of his life. Even worse than that was learning from the principal that she’d been sexually assaulted by two boys in the hallway just moments before she attempted to kill herself. He’d driven so fast to the ER that he’d probably left skid marks on the road.

 

Cain was off to pick up the other kids so he could get there in time.

 

Just in case.

 

“Okay, follow me, I’ll take you to the Emergency Room,” she said, her voice calm and soothing, but he needed her to hurry, to run, to make haste. There was no time to wait, not now. “My name is Nurse Braeden and I’m going to help you, okay?”

 

“Okay,” he replied brokenly as she walked him down another hallway until they were standing in front of the ER desk. As soon as he was with  nurses who could help him, he didn’t know what to say. The words were gone and he just felt broken.

 

“This man is looking for his sister,” Nurse Braeden said.

 

Another nurse looked up at him, his eyes the most startling blue. “I can take it from here, thanks Lisa,” he said, his accent strange to Dean’s ears.

 

“You’re welcome, Benny. I hope your sister is okay.” Lisa gave him an encouraging smile before walking off to leave him alone with Benny.

 

“Can I get your sister’s name?” Benny asked.

 

“Claire,” he whispered. “Novak. Claire Novak.”

 

“Alright, thank ya.” Benny typed away into a computer and nodded a little. “She was just brought in by squad, uh, she’s… Well…” He looked up at him before standing and walking around the desk to lead him to a chair.

 

“Is she alright?” he whispered, staring at Benny in hopes that the man could make it right again. “Is she gonna be alright?”

 

“Ain’t too many notes about her in the system,” Benny started carefully, “ ‘Cept she’s in critical condition and they’ve rushed her off for emergency surgery.”

 

Bile began to churn in Dean’s stomach and up into his throat. “Please tell me she’s going to be alright. She’s only sixteen-.”

 

“She’s in good hands,” Benny said as he sat with him on a bench, holding his hands and rubbing his back. “I can’t promise nothin’, but I can say she’s in good hands.”

 

Dean gulped and felt the tears leak out of his eyes. His hands were starting to shake in Benny’s and he wasn’t sure what to do. Claire was in emergency surgery; she needed _surgery_ , not stitches. Surgery.

 

Benny sat with him until Cain and the kids walked in. “You with him?” Benny asked quietly as Cain came to stand near the bench.

 

“Yes,” Cain said as he knelt down directly in front of Dean.

 

“He’s in a bit of shock,” Benny whispered. “I’ve been watching his pulse, it’s a little high, but he should be alright. Just needs some comfort. Anythin’ else happens, you let me know.”

 

“I will.” Cain took Benny’s seat and Dean could feel Cain’s hands replacing Benny’s. Cain’s hands were familiar; calloused in all the right places and soft in others. They were strong and he knew they knew his body religiously.

 

“Is she okay?” Adam asked and finally Dean snapped out of his own state of shock to look up at the kids. Jesse was in tears and clinging to Adam’s side.

 

“Hey,” he said, only then truly realizing Cain was there and holding his hands and being affectionate with him. _So much for taking it slow_. “Uh, she’s in emergency surgery… and, um, I don’t know much else.”

 

“Shit,” Sam whispered as he sat down. Sam’s hands were swollen, Dean noted.

 

“I hope that’s from you beating the creep who did this to her,” he said, eyes on Sam’s knuckles.

 

“Yeah, it is,” Sam said. “I heard her screaming in the hall and I went out there and…” He trailed off, his eyes falling on Jesse. “Well, it wasn’t good what he was doing to her.”

 

Dean clenched Cain’s hands tightly as he thought of kicking the kid’s ass himself. If it wouldn’t have landed him in jail, he would find that bastard and beat the snot out of him. “I hope you did a number on him,” he replied gravely.

 

“He did,” Adam said. “I saw him in the office, he was a mess.”

 

“Good.”

 

Cain squeezed Dean’s hands back and looked at Jesse. “Perhaps, Adam, you could take Jesse to get something to eat. I believe this is about the time he’d be coming home to a snack, yes?” He looked at Dean for confirmation.

 

“Yeah,” Dean said as he glanced at Cain’s watch. “Would you Adam?”

 

“Sure, with what money?”

 

Cain fished out his wallet and handed him a twenty. “Get yourself something, too.”

 

Adam slowly took the cash. “Dean, are _all_ of your friends rich? Because, why are we so poor then?”

 

Dean felt his jaw clench. “Adam, just take Jesse to get something, please.”

 

Jesse stepped forward to hug Dean around the neck once and then he was dashing off with Adam without another word. Dean smiled a little as he saw some brightness in the giant cloud of darkness that continued to linger over them like the fucking plague. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.

 

“She’s going to be okay,” Cain told him, sounding so damn sure of himself.

 

Dean looked over at him and he wanted to slap Cain in the face and tell him to stop being a fucking liar. No one knew if she were going to be okay or not. She could die on the table for all they knew. She could just try and succeed again. It was all up in the air.

 

“Dean, can I talk to you?” Sam asked, his voice rough and angry.

 

“Sure,” he replied heavily before slowly letting go of Cain and following Sam off into a hallway.

 

“Who _is_ he?” Sam demanded. “I wanna know.”

 

“I told you, I met him at work,” Dean said, feeling exhausted and fed up.

 

“Yeah, right. He’s rich as hell, he drives a Benz. Who is he?” Sam gave him a dark look and Dean knew he was tired of being lied to. He couldn’t exactly _blame_ Sammy.

 

Taking a deep breath, Dean focused his eyes on the ground. “I did meet him at work, but I’m not working atThe Roadhouse anymore. Haven’t been for a while now.”

 

“Then where are you working?”

 

“For Crowley.” Dean went quiet and let that sink in and slowly he saw the recognition flit across Sam’s face.

 

“You’re a _whore_?” Sam hissed, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

 

“Yeah, Sam, I’m a hooker. Why do you think we’ve got so much cash? I get it from the guys who… do me.” He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I ain’t proud of it and I didn’t want you to find out… but… Cain likes me, he wants to stick around. I like him, too.”

 

“So, he wants to be… what? Your boyfriend?” Sam asked, sounding as if he didn’t believe it.

 

“I guess,” Dean said. “I don’t know what he is, because I don’t know what I want… but what I do know is that I like him and he’s been… he’s been _here_.”

 

Sam nodded a little. “So, does he still pay you? Are you still… I mean…”

 

“Yeah, I am, but I’m trying to find a new job. I don’t wanna be a hooker forever, alright? And Cain doesn’t pay me to hang out or to be here or to have sex, not anymore. It’s different now.” Dean glanced back down the hall where Cain was sitting in the waiting room, looking stoic.

 

“So it’s not permanent?” Sam asked.

 

“I hope not. I gotta talk to Crowley or Cain does… Cain said he could give me a job, but I didn’t want it to be that easy.” He looked down at his toes. “I don’t even know what kinda job- but, nevermind, okay? That shit, you don’t have to worry about it, that’s for _me_ to worry about.”

 

“Dean-.”

 

Dean grabbed Sam’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I’m the adult,” he said, repeating Sam’s words back to him. “It’s my _job_ to take care of this family and this house, okay? Right now, I want you to go see Benny at the desk and see if they can give you some ice for your hands and then after that, I want you to go down with Adam and Jesse and find something to eat.”

 

Sam nodded as he swallowed back some words. “Okay,” he whispered.

 

“She’ll be okay. She’s strong. She’s a fighter.” Dean tweaked Sam’s cheek and then patted his back. “Okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Dean nodded and then he walked Sam up to the desk to see about some ice, before returning to Cain and sinking down with a heavy sigh. He pressed his hands to his face so he could keep it together; if the kids saw him broken, they wouldn’t have anyone to look to for strength. He had to be strong for them.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered finally.

 

Cain slid his hand over to his arm, giving him another comforting squeeze. “You also should eat something.”

 

“Not hungry,” he replied with a shrug. “Tired, but not hungry.”

 

“Do you want some water?”

 

He shook his head and finally took a moment to lean against Cain heavily, wishing that he could hand all of the responsibility to Cain. Out of everyone in the whole goddamn hospital, Cain seemed like he could handle anything and everything with strong shoulders and a stoic face.

 

“What do _you_ want, then?” Cain asked, looking at him very seriously.

 

“I want to close my eyes and make this nightmare end,” he replied quietly. “But that’s not how life works.”

 

“There must be something I can get you, do for you. Help with.” Cain met his eyes and took his hands to squeeze. “I want to help you.”

 

“I know and I appreciate that,” he said quietly. “Thank you for everything, Cain, I’m _sorry_ you’re in this crap.”

 

“I took it on willingly,” Cain replied. “Don’t forget that, Dean.”

 

He half smiled and nodded once. “I’m gonna go see if I can find the kids, um… God, in this moment I wished I had money for cell phones.” Immediately his eyes began to water again as he realized the were so poor they couldn’t even contact each other in an emergency.

 

“I could fix that,” Cain said as he started to stand up.

 

“Cain-.”

 

“Everyone should have a mobile phone, Dean, even I’ve come to accept that… and I’m an old, grumpy man who hates technology.” Cain smiled a little and Dean realized he was half kidding and half not.

 

“But it’s a lot.” Dean sank back down into his chair and went to hold Cain’s face with both of his hands. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me and I’m worried you’re going to go away and then I’m worried that I won’t have these nice things anymore and the kids will be disappointed.”

 

“I have no plans in going anywhere,” Cain replied as he pressed their foreheads together lightly. “They don’t have to be fancy.”

 

“I don’t need nothin’ fancy, just… numbers and phone calls.” Dean shrugged a little. “The kids, though, they’re gonna want that fancy stuff.”

 

Cain chuckled and pressed a slow kiss to his lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

Dean gulped and kissed him back, tears leaking out of his eyes. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

 

Cain smiled a little and kissed him again. “You’re welcome. I will return shortly.”

 

“Really.” Dean grasped onto Cain’s hands and kissed his fingers, feeling completely indebted to him. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done and everything you’re doing.” He was fairly certain he saw Cain blush, but the look passed and Cain was heading out toward his car.

 

Dean blushed too and then looked down at the floor. Once again, he was alone, and there was no one around to comfort him. At least that meant he could cry freely. And he did.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Sam slowly glanced up from where he’d been staring at the wall opposite the chair he’d been sitting in. There was ice on his hands and Dean had told him to get something to eat, but he hadn’t done that, he’d just picked a random waiting room to sit in and hadn’t moved since. There was a brunette nurse staring at him, looking really concerned for his well being.

 

“My sister’s in emergency surgery,” he replied, feeling the weight of those words resting over his shoulders. They were weighing him down and preventing him from getting up to check on the others. “I don’t know how she is doing.”

 

“Are you with Dean Winchester?” she asked. He nodded. “I’m Lisa Braeden, I walked him to the ER… What’s your sister’s name, I could maybe find something out for you?”

 

Sam gulped and felt tears fill his eyes. “Claire Novak. She’s my half sister.”

 

“Okay,” she whispered before kneeling down in front of him to take his hands. “It’ll be okay.”

 

“What if it’s not?” he whispered. “What if she’s not okay? What if she just gives up?”

 

Lisa’s face softened further as she squeezed his hands and looked him in the eye. “I don’t want to say that will happen, because it may not happen. Is your sister a fighter?”

 

“ _Oh_ , yeah,” he said with a little smile. Claire was definitely a fighter; she didn’t go down without some serious punches. “She’s definitely a fighter.”

 

“Good.” Lisa smiled and brushed some of his hair out of his face. “Where’s the rest of your family?”

 

“I don’t know… I just started to wander. I’m sorry- I don’t even know where I am right now.”

 

“Well, you’re in the maternity ward, I can walk you back down if you want?”

 

He blushed and looked down at the floor. Great, people had probably passed him and assumed he was another young dad. Not that there was anything _wrong_ with that assumption, it was just _wrong_. “No, I got it.”

 

“Okay. Well, when you walk out of here, turn a right and go down to the first floor. Once you’re there, take another right and that hallway you come to will have signs pointing to the ER, okay?”

 

“Thanks,” he said before pulling his sore hands free of her gentle ones. “You know where to find me if you find something out about her.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Together they stood up and she walked him to the door that would take him to the elevators. He thanked her again and then he was on the elevator and going down to the first floor to make a right or was it a left? Sam sighed as he realized he didn’t remember her directions and maybe he should have had her walk him at least part of the way.

 

The hospital was a nice hospital; it was big and busy and he’d passed at least two chapels, a man playing piano, and countless of sitting rooms. All of his life he’d wanted to go into law and help put bad people in jail, but now that he was standing in a place full of medical professionals, he began to wonder if he should be pre-med.

 

Dr. Sam Winchester.

 

It had a nice ring to it, that was for sure. Sam sighed as he slowly began to remember that they could never afford college, let alone medical school. Not to mention medical school was a popularity contest anyway; you had to know people who knew people to have a better shot at being accepted. It was incestuous in Sam’s mind, but that was how academics ran itself.

 

“Sam!” came Adam’s voice, which made him spin around to see Adam walking up to him, Jesse in tow. “She’s out of surgery.”

 

Sam felt his heart soar and then they were running back down the hall; at one point, Sam didn’t recall when, but he ended up picking Jesse up and running with him in his arms so they could make it back to the ER. Dean was talking to some doctor and Cain was coming in through the doors with bags in tow.

 

“How is she?” he panted as he came to stand next to Dean and the doctor.

 

“Put me down,” Jesse whispered to him.

 

“Oh, sorry Jesse.” He set Jesse back down and turned his attention on the doctor who was speaking to Dean, or _had_ been speaking to Dean before they’d walked up and interrupted the conversation. “Is she okay?”

 

“She’s in serious condition,” the doctor replied slowly. “We’ve been able to patch her up and do some transfusions, but the rest will be up to her.”

 

“Is she awake?” Dean asked.

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?” Sam demanded, his eyes flickering to the doctor’s badge. Dr. Kevin Tran.

 

“We’re keeping her asleep so she won’t be in as much pain… and of course, she’s just gotten out of surgery, she was under quite a bit of anesthetic,” Dr. Tran replied slowly.

 

“But, do you think she’ll recover?” Dean asked, his voice quiet and Sam was surprised to hear him sound so unsure. Usually, Dean had a good head on his shoulders, he always knew what to do, and he never wavered. Dean was their rock, but Dean was looking like a rock that was weather beaten and exhausted. Like at any moment it would start to crumble into the ocean and float away.

 

“That’s up to her,” Dr. Tran repeated. “I wish I could give you better news, but I can’t.” He gave them all a sympathetic look. “My advice is you go home, get some rest, and come back tomorrow. We will call you in the early morning to tell you how the night went. No news is usually good news.”

 

Dean nodded and Sam wanted to argue, to claim they’d stay at the hospital, but if Dean were already nodding, it was a done deal. They would go home and stare at each other, feeling empty instead.

 

“Thanks, Doc,” Dean muttered before Dr. Tran walked away.

 

“We’re just going to go home?” Sam demanded. “Shouldn’t we stay here?”

 

“He’s right, Sam,” Dean replied as he ran a hand over his face. “We should go home and get some sleep. You kids have school tomorrow and-.”

 

“You’re smoking some serious crack if you think we’re going to school tomorrow,” Adam spat.

 

Dean glared at the two of them. “You’re going to school tomorrow because it’s important you go.”

 

“But I don’t wanna go,” Jesse protested. “I want to stay with Claire.”

 

“Buddy, Claire wouldn’t want us all hovering around her and stuff.” Dean gave Jesse a weak, but encouraging smile. “Your job is to go to school, alright? It’s important you go everyday… and we don’t know how long she’ll be here, so you are all going to school tomorrow. End of story.”

 

Sam clenched his hands into fists, even though it hurt, and he wanted to punch Dean in the face. Of course, the only thing Dean could think about was school and how they all had to run off and attend fucking school. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was Adam who lost it.

 

“You only want us to go to school so you can fuck your boyfriend!” Adam yelled, which made the entire waiting room go silent and Dean’s face turned beet red. “Right, Dean?”

 

“Adam, please,” Dean whispered as he glanced around them in alarm. “You wanna yell at me, _fine_ , but yell at me in the car, not in public.”

 

Adam just gave him a nasty look and then he was storming out of the doors and Sam was quick to follow and so was Jesse. He didn’t want to know if Dean turned to Cain and apologized, he just wanted to punch something or scream or run away. Everything was so fucked up and Sam was starting to wonder if it was because Cain had come into Dean’s life.

 

They knew _nothing_ about Cain, because Dean kept it all under wraps, and how they’d met “at work”. Now, Sam knew Dean was a hooker and having sex for money, but he was trying to stop and Cain was his boyfriend. It was strange to hold that knowledge from everyone else. So, as they reached the car, Sam pulled on Adam’s elbow.

 

“What?” Adam asked, looking about as tired as Sam felt.

 

“Dean’s a hooker,” he replied.

 

“... _What_?”

 

“What’s a hooker?” Jesse parroted.

 

Sam looked down at Jesse and said, very seriously, “A hooker’s a person who gets money to have sex with people.”

 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Adam hissed with wide eyes. “Is Cain like his _pimp_?”

 

“His boyfriend,” Sam replied with a shrug. “He used to pay Dean, but now he doesn’t. But I saw bags from Verizon in his hands when he came in.”

 

“So, now he pays Dean in cell phones?” Adam looked around like he was completely lost. “Why are our lives so fucked up?”

 

“I dunno,” he admitted as Dean began to appear, Cain on his heels. “But I’m sick of it.”

 

“Me too,” Jesse agreed, which made a sad smile cross his face.

 

“You too?” Sam asked as he hugged Jesse with one arm. “Well, maybe this Cain guy will buy us nice stuff, so at least there’s that.”

  
Adam snorted, but didn’t say anything as they climbed into the Impala. Sam glanced back at Dean as he accepted the bags, said something to Cain, and then he was walking toward the car. He couldn’t help but glare at Dean before sliding in the front seat. If Claire didn’t make it overnight, he would never forgive Dean again.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this Chapter: 
> 
> -More suicidal thoughts  
> -Suicidal threats  
> -There is also a _sort of_ suicide attempt, but not quite

There was a boy who looked too young to be on the street corner standing under a lamplight, smoking a cigarette. The cloud of smoke was hanging over his head like a halo and his long, svelte legs were nicely tanned. The dark hair on his head was a mess and Dean caught a glimpse of sparkle along his exposed, flat stomach. He was prettier than some of the girls he’d worked with.

 

Dean pulled up beside him and rolled down his window. “Hey,” he called. It felt weird picking someone up when he was used to the one being picked up.

 

He’d finally decided to quit working for Crowley and so far he’d gone a whole week without getting paid for sex. He’d even found a job cleaning houses, and since he loved to clean, he figured it would work in his favor. Claire was still in the hospital and he didn’t even want to think about it anymore; Sam and Adam went everyday to visit her and he did too, but he always did it alone.

 

The kid walked over with a sway in his wide hips. “Hi,” he said. “What’s your name?”

 

“Dean,” he said. “I’m not here to pick you up for sex.”

 

“Then what the hell do you want?” the boy demanded icily.

 

Dean shrugged a little. “Can I pay you to just… let me talk to you? Vent?”

 

There was a pause as he considered it and then he nodded a little. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

 

“What’s your name?” he asked as soon as the kid made his way into the car.

 

“Cas.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Cas.” They pulled away and Dean just drove. He wasn’t even sure where he was going, he just needed to get the hell away from his life for a while.

 

“So, you want to talk,” Cas said.

 

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, his eyes on the road. “I used to do what you do… I used to get paid for sex. It sucked.”

 

Cas snorted and blew some smoke out of the car. “Yeah, well, I don’t have many options, okay?”

 

“i’m not judging you,” he said quickly, glancing over at him. “I get it. I didn’t either. I had zero skills and no degree or education to get a good job.”

 

Cas looked over at him slowly. “That’s the thing,” he said quietly. “I do. I graduated from high school, I went to college, I did all the _right_ things. I still ended up here.”

 

“You still go to college?” Dean asked as he pulled onto the highway. It took him a moment to realize he was driving to Cain’s apartment.

 

“No, I dropped out.” Cas shrugged and flicked his finished cigarette out the window. “I couldn’t afford it and my parents wouldn’t pay for me to major in dance. I refused to major in something they wanted me to, so I quit.” He shrugged.

 

The initial reaction Dean had was wanting to be angry at Cas for giving up something so precious; he would have killed to go to college, to have that life, but he’d never had the chance. And Cas just threw his away? But he paused to digest Cas’ sentence instead; his parents had refused to pay for what Cas had wanted, so he’d thrown it away because he would have been miserable otherwise.

 

Dean knew and understood that feeling.

 

“And everyone gets so mad at me,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s thoughts. “The people I meet, they’re always pissed off that I spat out the silver spoon, gave up my life of privilege, and ‘chose’ this life.” He rolled his eyes and glared out the window as the cars and lights passed by. “I didn’t _choose_ this life. I got put into it.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, realizing his venting session was turning into Cas’ venting session, and he didn’t mind either way.

 

“Thanks.” Cas looked over at him again and smiled. “You’re nice… You said you used to be a prostitute?”

 

“Yeah, I worked for Crowley.”

 

“ _Oh_... Okay. I wish I worked for Crowley, he actually treats his hookers nicely.” Cas sighed and slumped down in his seat. “I got stuck with Abaddon.”

 

Abaddon.

 

Abaddon.

 

Why the hell was that name so damn familiar?

 

Aba- _Abaddon_.

 

“Wait, that redheaded bitch who mistreats people?” Dean demanded. “Shit, you _work_ for her?”

 

“Yeah.” Cas pouted a little. “She’s _awful_. She takes most of my money and…” Cas trailed off and he glanced out the window, looking forlorn and bitter. “Well, let’s just say, she lets bad things happen to me.”

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked as he pulled into the garage at Cain’s apartment. They knew his car by now and he had a parking pass via Cain.

 

“It’s not a nice thing to talk about,” Cas replied with a shrug. “Let’s just say sometimes I say no, but things happen anyway.”

 

Dean felt his stomach twist into knots. Cas needed his help; he needed Cain’s help. He needed _someone’s_ help. “What if I told you I know someone who could help you get out of the crappy situation? Someone who hates Abaddon and would totally do this to stick it to her?”

 

“Who?” Cas asked.

 

“He lives in this building. His name is Cain.”

 

Cas’ eyes widened. “Cain Apidae? The bee guy?”

 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Dean shrugged and nodded. “You wanna meet him?”

 

Cas nodded excitedly. “ _Please_.”

 

“Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

 

There was so much _beeping_.

 

Beeping and voices and noises.

 

Claire felt her eyelids flutter as she started to wake up, only to realize her throat felt sore and dry. When was the last time her mouth had tasted anything wet? As her eyes adjusted she began to realize she wasn’t dead like she’d intended - unless the afterlife was just a giant hospital.

 

“Well, good evenin’,” came a friendly voice, which was attached to an even friendlier smile. “I’m Benny, I’m your nurse. How you feelin’, Claire?”

 

She turned her head to look for anyone in her family, but no one was there, not even Dean. Maybe they’d just left her to rot. She didn’t exactly blame them. “Thirsty,” she rasped.

 

“Sure, sure.” Benny nodded as he turned to pick up a paper cup, which he filled with water, and dropped a straw into buoy around. Once the straw was placed to her lips, she went to take it, but soon realized her arms were strapped to the bed. She couldn’t move.

 

“What the hell?” she said after taking a drink, her voice slowly returning to itself.

 

“It’s for your own safety,” Benny explained carefully. “You’ve been under observation and now that you’re awake, we’ll have to put you on Suicide Watch while you’re up here in the ICU.”

 

As she came to realize the gravity of the situation, the pain began to traipse into her conscious mind. There were aches and stabs of pain in places she didn’t even know she _had_. “Ow- _fuck_ -.”

 

“What hurts?” Benny asked as he began to check her vitals and make notes in her chart.

 

“Everything,” she said.

 

“Well, we got you on morphine,” he replied slowly, “But I’m not sure I can give you more right now. I’ll have to check, alright? You did quite a number on yourself.”

 

Claire looked away and thought back to the moments before she’d just seen red and white. She’d been thinking about cutting her wrists and being done with it, but anger, hurt, and rage had burst out of body and into her hands as she stabbed her stomach over and over with the exacto knife. She’d been so _angry_ that she’d cut and tore and screamed, while everyone else fled the room.

 

“I remember,” she whispered. “I took an exacto knife and just… tore into myself.”

 

“Yeah,” Benny said as he sat down on the edge of her bed. “That’s right.”

 

“I mean- it wasn’t like it was a big blade,” she said.

 

“No, but you did give yourself a lot of punctures and tears and cuts before anyone could stop ya.” Benny reached over to wrap his large hand around hers. “I’m glad someone did stop ya. Who knows what you would have done if they hadn’t.”

 

“I don’t even know who did,” she admitted quietly, staring at Benny’s hand. There were scars running along his knuckles and the veins in his hands were large and blue. He had a man’s hands - hands that could hold a girl down and show her a good time.

 

“I don’t know the full story, but it’s probably best you don’t either,” Benny replied.

 

That was true.

 

If she remembered, she supposed, it could upset her further. “I don’t want to die,” she said quickly, turning her eyes on Benny.

 

“That’s good.”

 

Dying was just too easy. She didn’t want to die and rob herself of a life she could have - she wanted to prove Alex and everyone else at school _wrong_. “I wanna make something of myself,” she said firmly, “So I can tell the kids at school to suck it.”

 

A smile spread across Benny’s face and he took her hand to kiss her knuckles gently. “I’m glad you feel that way, darlin’. The world would be a darker place without ya.”

 

She smiled back and relished his attention. He was a handsome man, who had been taking care of her. She was going to have to get his number.

 

* * *

 

If Cain’s eyebrow climbed any higher on his forehead, it would belong in the forest of hair on his head. Dean and Cas were sitting on the couch, trying to explain Cas’ story, but Dean was not exactly doing a great job of it.

 

“So, you want me to help him,” Cain finally said, his face not giving away how he felt inside. Not that it ever did.

 

“Right,” Dean said. “Like you helped me.”

 

Cain sighed and Dean flinched. Maybe he’d read Cain wrong, maybe he _didn’t_ want to help after all. “Dean, may I speak with you outside?”

 

“Uh- sure.” He nodded and tried to give Cas an encouraging smile, but he could see that Cas didn’t look too upbeat. The smile faded as he followed Cain out onto the balcony by the pool, which was lit up for night swimming, and the city’s lights were flickering and there was still so much traffic going down below them. The skyline at night was beautiful and Dean liked to be outside, but the way Cain was looking at him - like he was angry or annoyed or tired - didn’t bode well.

 

“Do you think I run a charity house for wayward hookers?” Cain asked, sounding fed up. “Or do you think I am such a lonely, old man that I need company always, in the form of young and barely legal prostitutes? Is that how you see me?”

 

“What? _No_.” Dean jumped into Cain’s space and grasped onto his jacket. “No, that’s not how I see you. Not at _all_.”

 

“Then why are you asking me to take in a stranger?” Cain glanced in at Cas, who was still sitting on the couch, well behaved and not touching a damn thing. “I don’t know this boy. The only thing I know is he works for Abaddon and he likes bees.”

 

“He’s a fan of yours,” Dean said with a smile. “You know that- also, what’s with the bee thing? Are you secretly into bees? Is this a kink I don’t know about?”

 

Cain’s face went from annoyed to completely and utterly unamused. Dean gulped and smiled nervously, hoping he could cute his way out of a fight. “I raise bees, Dean. They are the foundation of this planet, without them, we fall, much like Rome.”

 

“Okay, sorry- I didn’t know that.” Dean took a step back to give Cain his personal space. “I just… I know you hate Abaddon and you guys have like a rivalry or something… I just really want to help him. He said Abaddon lets people _rape_ him, Cain… Shouldn’t that make you want to help him?”

 

Cain looked beyond him and back through the windows again. “I never said I wouldn’t help him. It just seemed sudden.”

 

“Well, in your defense, it is sudden.” Dean shrugged and smiled nervously again. “But remember, that’s why you like me. I’m impulsive and stupid.”

 

Cain’s lips formed a thin line and Dean could tell he was truly annoyed. Clearly, there was something wrong.

 

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” he asked shyly, taking another step closer until they were almost pressed up against one another.

 

Cain sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Long day at work… I do not mean to take it out on you, Dean. Or your friend.”

 

So, _that’s_ what was wrong. Cain had had a shitty day at work and needed to relax. Turning, Dean went back to poke his head inside. “Hey, can you come here?”

 

Cas looked up and nodded, jumping up to join them out on the balcony. “Yeah?”

 

Dean smiled and went back to Cain, looking up at him with a devious gaze. Cain raised his eyebrow again. “Does Daddy want some company?” he asked slowly.

 

“Dean…”

 

Cas frowned and look between them. “Are you two together?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Dean said quickly before Cain could answer. “We are…. and Cain’s just _stressed_. He needs to relax.”

 

One glance back at Cas, he saw recognition fill pretty, blue eyes. “ _Oh_ ,” Cas said with a small smile. “I mean, I’m _very_ good at helping men relax, Sir.”

 

“Oh, he called you Sir, isn’t that nice?” Dean asked with another smile. “So respectful.”

 

“Yes, unlike _you_ ,” Cain replied, which made Dean blush. “Go sit down and watch how a proper young man treats his lovers.”

 

Dean gulped and went to sit on a chair by the pool, while Cas walked up to Cain and immediately got down on both knees to unbuckle his belt and open up his fly. He whined when Cas had Cain’s cock out and was eagerly licking and kissing it hard. He _knew_ what that cock felt like in hand and he knew how Cain tasted; it felt strange to watch someone please his lover.

 

“Mmm,” Cain slid a hand into Cas’ hair and guided him down his cock until Cas had him _all_ in. The sight made Dean’s jaw drop, since he was definitely not one for deepthroating. He was going to have to practice.

 

“He’s _very_ good,” Cain commented, his voice low and rumbly. Usually, Cain didn’t speak or make any noise during sex, unless it was to give him direction or say _dirty_ things to make him whimper and writhe.

 

“Better than me?” Dean asked immediately. Was Cas better than him? Cas _looked_ as if he were better - the way his head moved, the way Cain’s was slowly tipping back in pleasure, and the way his lover took in sharp breaths and how his stomach was taut. Cas clearly knew how to work even the the most stoic of Doms over.

 

“ _Very_ good,” Cain gasped as he groaned and Dean recognized the way he came.

 

Dean shifted in his seat.

 

Maybe this had been a mistake. If Cas were better than him in bed, then what would stop Cain from moving on? Would Cain just _leave_ him? He whimpered and realized his cock was hard and needing desperate attention.

 

“Daddy,” he whined.

 

“Daddy’s working,” Cain replied as he pulled Cas up to his feet gently, slowly taking Cas’ clothes off. “What a handsome young man you are.”

 

Cas smiled and blushed, while he dropped his eyes to the ground. He looked so fragile and demure in the light, but Dean could see he had muscle definition. It was weak and barely there, but Dean figured Cas _used_ to have runner’s muscles, before he’d turned to a life of hooking and probably starvation.

 

“I can be your boy, too,” Castiel said with a quirky smile. “I’m well behaved and house trained.”

 

Cain chuckled as his hand wrapped around Cas’ cock, which wasn’t shaved like Cain preferred, but even he hadn’t shaved himself yet. He liked the hair down on his dick, it signified he was a _man_ , damn it.

 

“May I shave you?” Cain asked. “Later, of course.”

 

Cas smiled. “ _Please_?” he asked with Bambi eyes. “I usually do, but haven’t had the time or the means.”

 

Dean felt his jaw clench as this clearly pleased Cain _very_ much. He was slowly starting to rub and rut against the chair, even though his jeans weren’t giving him much stimulation. “Cain,” he said, less whiny and more angry.

 

Cain glanced over at him, his hand still idly stroking Cas’ cock. “Hm?”

 

“I asked you if he was better than me,” Dean snapped, realizing he sounded like a bitter and jealous girlfriend.

 

“I said he was very good,” Cain replied, as if _that_ were sufficient. “Which he is.”

 

Cas smiled and leaned up against Cain for the attention. “So, can I stay here? I’ll do anything- you _want-oh_.” He moaned so prettily as he came in long spurts. Cain continued to guide him through it, milking his cock until it was a dripping, soft mess.

 

“You may stay as long as you like, Cas.”

 

“Castiel,” he whispered, glancing up at Cain a bit. “My real name is Castiel.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Castiel.” Cain walked Cas over to sit on a chair, since his legs were slowly turning to jelly. Dean had to admit, he made a very pretty picture lounging across the chair, his long legs outstretched, his torso covered in cum, and his face happy.

 

Dean’s jaw clenched and unclenched over and over - so, Cas was young, prettier, and better than him in the sack. Great. Just _great_ , Dean thought as he tried not to glare at Cas too much. After all, it had been his idea to get Cas to help Cain _relax_.

 

“Are you boys hungry?” Cain asked them.

 

“Yes,” Castiel said immediately. “Please.”

 

Cain turned to look at him, his hand on Cas’ head, petting idly. That made him grind his teeth together. “Dean?”

 

“Yeah,” he growled. “I guess.”

 

“Then, come inside and help me. Castiel, you are welcome to step inside or stay here.” Cain petted him a few more times, before heading toward the back door to let himself back in.

 

“I’ll stay here,” he replied as he hummed and relaxed, clearly about to take a nap.

 

Dean’s eyes narrowed in Cas’ direction, before he stomped off after Cain. While Cain went to the kitchen, Dean went to glare and pout across from him at the breakfast counter. It wasn’t until Cain spun around to face him, that he realized he probably looked like a petulant two year old.

 

“My, my, isn’t that an ugly face,” Cain mused as he set some fresh bread down to cut some slices off the loaf. “And here I was about to make you your favorite sandwich.”

 

“You ignored me,” Dean replied angrily. “And you said he was better than me.”

 

“You both have sufficient skills in the carnal arts, Dean,” Cain replied.

 

“AKA, he’s better than me!” He threw his arms up in the air and walked over to snatch up his coat. “Well, you know what? Fuck you, too.”

 

“Dean-.”

 

He could hear Cain coming after him, but he didn’t care. He could totally outrun the old man - but did he want to? _No_ , he thought. He _wanted_ Cain to beat him to the door. He wanted Cain to stop him and to tell him that it wasn’t true and that he cared about him more than Cas.

 

God, Cas had been with Cain for a few minutes and he was already a jealous housewife.

 

He was pathetic.

 

Cain’s hand wrapped around his elbow and gently turned him back around. “Dean,” he said. “I know I am not good at being vocal in my affections for you, but I do care about you. I don’t know Castiel very well, I only know that he has a very gifted tongue.”

 

Dean snorted. “I’m sure he’s great, too,” he mumbled. “What if you end up liking him more?”

 

“Somehow, I doubt I could ever like anyone more than I like you,” Cain said as he pulled Dean so close, they were pressed up against one another. “I apologize for making you jealous.”

 

And now Cain was apologizing for something he didn’t even fucking start. _You really are the worst, Winchester_. “It’s alright, it’s not your fault. It was my idea… I thought if you _liked_ Cas… you know- like _that_ , then you’d help him. Which was wrong of me, I’m sorry.”

 

Cain’s face turned slightly sour again. “That how you see your old man? Shallow and vain?”

 

“No!” Dean threw his arms around Cain to hug him, pressing kisses to his beard and cheek and lips. “That’s not how I see you, not at all. I just wanted to help.”

 

“And you did. You are a very smart and _good_ boy.” Cain’s hands began to pet his back and his hair. Soon, he was practically purring and wagging his metaphorical tail. “Now, come help me make something for the two of you.”

 

He nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

 

* * *

 

The ringing of his cell phone was still something he wasn’t really used to, but after a few moments, Dean finally realized it was his phone ringing. Reaching over, he picked up, hoping he didn’t sound like a moron. “Yeah?”

 

“Dean?”

 

His heart almost stopped when he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in awhile. Tears filled his eyes and a smile began to turn his mouth up. “Claire?” he asked excitedly. “That you?”

 

“Yeah,” she laughed a bit. “I got your number from Benny… He’s my nurse. Said you left the number for when I was allowed to call, and I’m not really supposed to be, but…”

 

“No one even told me you were awake!” Dean exclaimed, suddenly angry. “How long have you been awake?”

 

“Not long,” she said quickly. “You weren’t here when I woke up and I didn’t want to bother you or anyone else.”

 

“I’m sorry, Claire,” he whispered, immediately feeling guilty. Of course he hadn’t been there when she woke up, he’d been with his lovers. _Fuck, you are a failure._ “I didn’t want the kids missing too much school… and I’m sorry, I shoulda stayed there-.”

 

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “They told me I was out for a while.”

 

He ran a hand over his face as he realized how long it had been. “Yeah,” he said, feeling the heavy weight on his shoulders lift a little. Now that she was awake, she’d get the help she needed, and he was going to make sure she went to a better school.

 

“I gotta go,” she said. “I’m not even supposed to be on the phone, I’m on suicide watch.” He could hear her rolling her eyes. “But, Benny’s risking me calling you, so I gotta go before he gets in trouble. Okay?”

 

“Okay. I’ll come by later.”

 

“They probably won't let you, but thanks anyway.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “I dare them to fuckin’ try. I’ll talk to you later, alright? I love you, Claire.”

 

There was a pause and then she said, her voice quiet and he could hear how sad she must have felt, “I miss you and everyone.”

 

“I know,” he whispered.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I know.”

 

The call ended then and Dean sighed as he slowly hung up his phone, pressing it to his forehead. Of course, they were going to put her on suicide watch; it made sense, but he’d be damned if they didn’t let him into see her. Glancing over at the door, Dean ached to drive back to Cain’s, crawl into bed with him, and not get up again for a week.

 

But, the kids would be coming home from school soon, and they needed a snack for afterward. As he stood up, the door burst open, and he was certain he’d had a mini heart attack. “Jesus!” he gasped as Jesse, Adam, and Sam rushed in. “What the hell are you guys doing here? You still have school-.”

 

“There was a huge power outage, all over,” Adam said with a shrug.

 

“Did you _walk_ home?” Dean wanted to hit them all on the backs of their heads. They walked home often, and he didn’t like it.

 

“Yeah,” Jesse replied. “It’s nice out.”

 

He sighed. “What do you want for a snack?”

 

Sam was heading for the stairs and Adam was on his heels. They didn’t reply, so Dean walked over to intercept them. He was tired of their attitudes; he deserved more fucking respect than they gave.

 

“We have homework,” Sam snapped.

 

“You know what?” Dean replied angrily. “I am super fucking tired of the way you guys treat me.”

 

“Well,” Adam said slowly. “Why would we treat you nicely when you just lie to us all the time?”

 

“I beg your fucking pardon?” Dean growled.

 

“You’re a _hooker_?” Adam asked.

 

His heart dropped and he looked over at Jesse in alarm. He was staring at them from where he was sitting backward on the couch. “I-. Who told you that?”

 

“I did,” Sam replied with a shrug. “They ought to know where your money comes from.”

 

The way his body felt suddenly cold and achey made him wonder if his blood had siphoned right out of his pores. His heart sank and his stomach twisted with nausea. “I don’t do that anymore,” he replied dully, wondering if they’d even believe him. “I clean houses.”

 

“Yeah, sure you do,” Adam snorted as he shoved past Dean and toward the stairs, but Dean forcibly stepped in front of him. “Get outta the way, Dean.”

 

“I _do_ clean houses,” he growled, feeling his hands clench into fists. “And so what if I made money from men? It was _good_ money! It kept you kids in clothes and food!”

 

“It’s also embarrassing,” Adam replied coldly. “Like, how can we even explain that to people?”

 

“You don’t.” He glanced over at Jesse and felt his face turn hot and red. “Jesse, go upstairs to your room.”

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

“Because, we’re having a grown up conversation,” he replied tiredly.

 

“I know what a hooker is,” Jesse said petulantly. “Sam told me.”

 

Dean slowly turned his gaze to Sam, seething with rage. “ _Did_ he?” he growled.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Upstairs, Jesse. Now.”

 

“ _Man_ , I never get to hear the good stuff,” Jesse whined as he stomped off upstairs to his room. Once Dean heard the door shut, he had to keep himself from slapping Sam across the face.

 

“You told a nine year old what a _hooker_ is?” Dean growled.

 

“He’d hear it at school eventually,” Sam replied.

 

“I should _kick_ your ass.” He shoved a finger in Sam’s chest, pushing him back. “I should kick your ass until your kids come out black and blue.”

 

“Why? And be _Dad_? You wanna kick my ass to feel better, Dean? That what you want?” Sam yelled. “That what you want?!”

 

Dean clenched his hands tighter until he could feel his palms ache. Adam fell back a step, pressing himself into the corner, clearly afraid of him. He wanted to tell them both to pack their shit and find somewhere else to live if they didn’t like how _they_ lived. Eventually, Dean felt the anger leave his body, as Sam’s words continued to eat at his psyche.

 

Be like their father.

 

He didn’t want to be like John. He did everything in his power to be _nothing_ like John. He would rather die, than be like John.

 

Turning away, Dean walked off to the kitchen in defeat, searching for something to make them. There were knives and chemicals all over the kitchen. How easy it would have been to drink a bunch of bleach or stab himself in the chest. Then, they wouldn’t have to live with him anymore; he was a monster, poison, a fucking embarrassment.

 

He wasn’t built to be their parent.

 

Dean slid to the floor and sat still, staring at the cabinets, feeling so _exhausted_. It was too hard to stand up and it was too hard to focus on anything productive. Eventually, Dean glanced up when he felt the floor creak. Adam was standing in the doorway, looking unsure and worried.

 

“You know,” he commented quietly, staring at the cabinets again. “I wish I still had Dad’s gun.”

 

“Why?” Adam whispered shakily.

 

He shrugged and pressed his fingers to the side of his head like a gun. “Just… one pull. Gone. You wouldn’t have to put up with me anymore.”

 

Adam’s face drained of color and he dashed away, calling for Sam. It hurt him to hear Adam sound like a frightened little boy, but he didn’t have the energy to stand up and tell him it was all fine. He couldn’t smile or relax or pretend he was strong anymore. His body and mind were worn out; he’d been running laps and his demons were doing jumping jacks. There wasn’t anything else he could do.

 

“Dean?” came Sam’s voice and then Sam’s face was in front of him, looking really afraid. “Hey… I-... Where’s your phone?”

 

“Why?” he asked quietly.

 

“Just, where is it?” Sam began to pat him down, until he found the device and then he was searching through it like a madman. Dean shut his eyes and tried to think if he had any pills or drugs to take; maybe he’d just go to sleep and not get up in the morning. That would be easier on all of them, at least.

 

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” he muttered, finally opening his eyes. Sam was on the phone, staring at him like a scared child.

 

“It’s okay, Dean-Hey… Uh- It’s Sam… Uh, could you come over? He’s… I don’t know, he’s not himself,” Sam was saying into the phone quickly, his hand reaching up to touch the side of Dean’s face. “Thanks.”

 

“Who was that?” Dean asked tiredly, pressing into Sam’s hand, before realizing Sam was _touching_ him, so he yanked out of his touch. He even shoved Sam away. “Go away, Sam.”

 

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Sam said quickly, tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry…”

 

He laughed a little and shrugged. “You know, I think I do still have Dad’s gun.”

 

“Hey, c’mon, don’t talk like that.” Sam went to touch him again, so he shoved Sam back with his boot. “Dean- _stop_.”

 

“Fuck you, Sammy,” he growled. “You treat me like shit and then I give you what you fucking want and you call Cain? That’s who you were talking to, right? _Cain_? You hate Cain. You hate me. You wish I was dead, well, I’m ready now, I’m ready to go. It’s my time to fucking go!”

 

With a surge of energy, Dean stood up and yanked open a drawer. It had a _KIDS OFF_ sticker on it, and it was technically supposed to be locked, but the lock didn’t work very well, and the drawer came open with a few yanks. John’s gun was just _sitting_ there, mocking him. It was an old pistol, with a white bone handle; there was some Latin inscribed on the side, but he didn’t remember what it said.

 

“Dean, wait!” Sam leapt at him, slamming the drawer shut, and almost catching Dean’s hand with it. “Don’t!”

 

The fury and anger filled him up to the breaking point. He grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt and tossed him as hard as he could into the wall, before taking Sam down to the floor. Holding Sam down with one hand, he used the other to punch his brother in face. Sam’s bones cracked and blood was soon covering Sam’s face, his knuckles, and the floor.

 

Adam was yelling at him and then there were strong arms yanking him off of Sam. He just attempted to kick Sam instead, but someone was yanking him up and shoving him hard up against a wall, and holding him there. For a moment, his vision was just _red_ , but when he came back, Dean was staring into an angry ocean. There was a storm in Cain’s eyes and Dean gulped as his bladder came close to just releasing itself.

 

That was not a happy glare. Cain had murder in his eyes and Dean had a feeling he was in real trouble.

 

“Cain,” he gasped.

 

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Cain asked quietly. He pressed Dean against the wall with one hand, while he turned to look at Sam. “Is he alright?”

 

Dean gulped again and he looked over Cain’s shoulder at where Adam was helping Sam sit up. His face was a swollen mess, blood running down his neck and into his shirt. Tears formed in his eyes at the sight.

 

“Yeah,” Adam said, “I mean _no_ , but he’s… he’ll be okay. Right, Sam?”

 

“Yeah,” Sam replied, glancing up at them. Dean could feel his lip tremble at how small and young Sam looked; he’d put that fear into Sam. _He’d_ done that.

 

“Good,” Cain replied and then those angry eyes were back on _him_. Dean could feel his dick and balls trying to climb back inside his body as Cain glared. “I am going to take your brother to the urgent care so he can be looked over. You are going to come with us and behave yourself.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” he muttered.

 

Cain slowly released him and pointed to the door. Dean began to shuffle out, his head ducked low, feeling real shame fill his core. He hadn’t meant to hurt Sam; he never wanted to hurt Sam again. God, he really did deserve to be put six feet under.

 

Jesse was standing at the stairs, the front of his pants wet, and Dean felt his heart shatter. “Jesse,” he said, reaching for him, but Jesse jumped back, hiding behind the banister. Tears filled his eyes, mimicking Jesse’s as they watered. “I’m sorry,” he said.

 

Cain continued to usher them out the door and Dean glanced back as Cain knelt down to coax Jesse out, clearly trying to calm him. Dean went to stand by Cain’s car, staring at the ground, wondering if he could honestly get away with taking pills later. Of course, while Cain sat on him, he couldn’t.

 

Sam was set in the front with Cain, while Dean was put all the way in the back, practically in the trunk, while Adam and Jesse sat in the middle. He turned his eyes on the window and watched the house disappear as they drove away. The walls returned and Dean shut down. It was easier than feeling, that was for sure.

 

* * *

  

“It was my fault,” Sam told Cain as they sat together in the room he’d been put in. He’d asked Cain to sit with him, which had made him feel like a child, but it was better than sitting alone to wait on a doctor to fix him up.

 

“Dean is an adult,” Cain replied. “He should know better.”

 

Sam shrugged. “I pushed him too far,” he whispered. “But I was afraid- He kept talking about Dad’s gun… and that fucking gun was in that drawer and I just- I had to _stop_ him.” Tears filled his eyes and they began to fall freely.

 

The idea of Dean killing himself was so goddamn humbling. It was all his fault; he’d mocked Dean, pushed Dean too far, given up Dean’s secrets, treated Dean worse than he’d treat his enemies. It hadn’t been fair or right, the way he’d treated Dean. It was only fair Dean took a few swings.

 

“Sam,” Cain said heavily, making him look up at him. “Your life has been full of hurdles and horrors… You are a very strong, young man. You’ve put up with more than someone your age _should_. I am not saying you haven’t done wrong, everyone does bad things, everyone says things they regret.”

 

Sam gulped and nodded, glancing back down again. The tears were slipping off of his face and dampening the crinkly paper he was situated on. “But?” he whispered.

 

“That being said,” Cain continued, “You should have been told the truth, about your brother, about me. I understand he wanted to keep it a secret, and I can understand with such young children in his care, but he shouldn’t have kept it all a secret. You both have done right and wrong by each other. Dean is a very weary and tired young man… He’s twenty six and looks thirty six. He needs a break, it is easy to see that, and if he’ll let me, I will make your lives easier.”

 

“Why?” Sam asked. “Why us? Why?”

 

“I care about your brother, Sam, and because I care about your brother, I care about you.” Cain stood and walked over to tilt his chin up a little. “You’ve seen enough horror in your life. I’ve been looking around, at homes, something bigger than what you own now, in a better area. If Dean allows it, it can be yours.”

 

Sam knew if his face hadn’t been a swollen mess, he would have looked completely stunned. Maybe he still did, he couldn’t be sure. “A new house?” he whispered.

 

Cain nodded. “It even has a yard, big enough to own a dog or two? Hm?”

 

Damn, Cain knew him better than he’d thought. “But, how can we pay for it?”

 

“I would pay for it,” Cain replied with a shrug. “I own several properties. I’m sure your brother won’t accept such a large gift, so I’ll tell him he can rent it from me instead.”

 

The tears were coming faster now and it just sounded so _easy_. With a snap of his fingers, Cain could make their lives better. What had they even done to deserve such an easy fix? “We don’t deserve that,” he sobbed.

 

“I think you do,” Cain countered. “I believe you do. All of you.”

 

“Will you help Dean get help?” he asked, not wanting to talk about houses anymore. All he wanted, was for Dean to get help for his mental wounds. “Please?”

 

“I can only do so much,” Cain replied quietly. “But I will talk to him.”

 

Sam nodded and then the doctor was knocking and walking in. He sighed and prepared himself to ask a bunch of questions; he’d already thought up a story. He just hoped they didn’t care too much about how he’d ended up a bleeding and swollen mess. The last thing they needed was for social workers to take them away from Dean and split them all up in foster care.

 

Cain sat and Sam began to fantasize about have a new house. Something bigger, better, _newer_. A place that Dean could still keep clean and up to par, but something where Dean could have his own bedroom and not live in a closet. He could have a dog (or two) and Jesse could have a yard to play in. Maybe they’d have a real kitchen and a real TV in a real living room. The carpet would be clean and soft.

 

It sounded too good to be true.

 

* * *

 

 

After their visit to the urgent care, Cain drove them out to a nice side of town, where the suburbs turned from boarded up houses to cookie cutter models that looked nice and pristine. They ended up pulling up in front of a house with two stories and two garage doors. There was a paved driveway and a fancy mailbox. The house even had a porch with a large bay window front and center. When they walked in, Dean felt too impure and dirty to step into something so new and nice.

 

It even smelled like fresh paint and the carpet was fucking cream colored; not dirty with brown stains. Adam was rushing up the steps with Jesse and they were cackling over the _loft_. It looked down on the living room and Sam was heading in to admire the high ceilings. Dean stood in the doorway, not letting himself cross the threshold. He didn’t belong here.

 

“Dean,” Cain said, gently pressing against his back to get him to walk over the threshold and into the house.

 

“Why are we here?” he asked tiredly.

 

“ _Whoa_ , there’s a bunch of rooms up here!” Adam called. Dean flinched at how happy he sounded. Why would Cain bring them to a place they could never have?

 

Cain placed a hand on his lower back and produced a set of house keys. “These are yours,” he said quietly.

 

His heart jumped a few beats, making his chest ache. “What?” he gasped, turning with alarm. “This is too much- you can’t. _No_.” He shook his head. Phones were one thing, but a _house_?

 

“It can be yours,” Cain corrected. “If you want it to be. You can rent it, of course.”

 

Dean stammered a few times. “But- I can’t afford rent on this. There’s no way- or the bills- the electric or the heat-.”

 

“You told me that it would be alright for me to take care of you, Dean,” Cain said. “Taking care of you, also means taking care of your family. I think it is time you have something _nice_. Something you can keep and call yours. Something to come home to.”

 

“But the kids have school- I can’t just switch them out _now_.” Dean stared up at Cain in fear. This was too much, it was too fast and too much. “I can’t say yes to this.”

 

“Why not?” Adam asked, making him startle. “I wanna live here. Jesse and I already picked out our rooms. We’re letting Claire have the one with the bathroom, because she _so_ deserves her own bathroom.”

 

Tears made his eyes feel hot and his vision began to swim. “Because, I can’t afford this place,” he replied. “I’m a failure and I can’t afford this.”

 

“You’re not a failure, Dean,” Cain muttered in his ear.

 

“I _am_!” he yelled back, pulling away to go and let himself into the nearest room, which happened to be the pitch black garage. It was a lot cooler and it was so dark, he couldn’t even see a hand in front of his face. He almost tripped down the two steps, but eventually found himself standing on cold concrete. His boots were so worn out, the cold ran up his legs in painful stabs.

 

However, he hadn’t thought to lock the door, so he heard it open and then a light was flooding the entire room. The garage was huge, and would easily fit Baby inside. “I’m a failure,” he whispered, staring at the garage door.

 

He felt Cain’s hand go to the back of his head and he wanted to collapse. “You’re not a failure,” Cain said quietly. “You’ve had a cruel and difficult hand dealt to you, Dean, but you're not a failure. You’ve given up your life for your siblings, and I know you’re tired.”

 

He _was_ tired; he was plain fucking exhausted. Getting up was difficult and staying awake was even more difficult. “I hate myself, Cain.”

 

“I know, Dean.” Cain wrapped his arms around him and Dean relaxed back against his chest. “Let me help you. Let me carry some of your weight. You can’t do it alone.”

 

“Nothing should be this easy,” he said. “I wanna pay for the house. I got a bunch of cash saved up, I can use it to put a payment down on it, just like normal people do.”

 

“That cash is _yours_ ,” Cain replied. “I won’t accept a large sum. If you want, you can pay what you do pay now, every month.”

 

“That ain’t enough,” he whined. “My rent’s dirt cheap, I _know_ that.”

 

“I will not ask you to break your back to pay for this,” Cain replied, pressing a kiss to Dean’s temple.

 

“But what about the stuff that comes with this house? Taxes and-and utilities. I can’t afford those things- Not on something this nice…” It hurt to remember how poor he was without Cain. When he’d been a hooker, he’d at least been able to break even.

 

“I will pay for them,” Cain replied quietly. “The house is in my name, so the bills come to me.”

 

Dean wanted to sob and collapse on the floor, and he probably would have, if Cain hadn’t been holding him upright. “I can’t repay you,” he whispered.

 

“You don’t have to, Dean. Not everything comes with strings attached.”

 

He shuddered and pressed his palms to his eyes to keep from crying more. “I know you’re mad at me… for what I did to Sam. If it makes you feel better, I’m more mad at me.”

 

“I’m more upset that I haven’t insisted you get some help before this.”

 

“Can’t afford that kinda shit.” Dean shrugged. “It’s not like a I got health insurance.”

 

“You need help, Dean. Do you want to be around for them?”

 

“No,” he spat. “They don’t want me. They don’t even need me. They got you.”

 

“They _need_ you,” Cain insisted.

 

He shook his head, completely unbelieving. They didn’t need a failure like him. They needed someone who could take care of them without being a fucky pussy about it. Someone who was strong, confident, and hda money. They needed Cain.

 

“How’s Cas?” he asked, feeling drained and ready to jump off into the void.

 

“He’s well,” Cain replied. “He says he hopes you are alright and he hopes you come to visit again soon.”

 

Dean snorted. “I’m sure you two get along _real_ well.” He couldn’t help but feel jealous; Cas got to have twenty-four hour access to Cain and he only got Cain when he had time to visit or Cain visited him.

 

“We do,” Cain replied, “but that doesn’t mean I do not miss you.”

 

He shrugged. “Cas is prettier than me.”

 

“And why does that matter?”

 

“I dunno.”

 

“Hey, Dean,” came Adam’s voice, making him startle again in Cain’s arms. “So, um, is this our house now? Because, we counted the rooms, and there’s four bedrooms. Three bathrooms. There’s like a big master with a huge bathroom with a big tub, it’s awesome, and um… We figured that could be _your_ room. And Sam and I can share, since Sam’s gonna live in California anyway, and then Jesse and Claire can have their own rooms.”

 

“I thought Claire was getting the room with the bathroom,” Dean replied quietly.

 

“Well, we talked it over, and I’m sure she won’t mind letting you have it…”

 

He snorted. “I don’t need my own room. You kids should have your own rooms.”

 

“But-.”

 

Cain gave him a squeeze, but he pulled away and began to walk back into the house. “I don’t need my own room, alright?”

 

“But you deserve it,” Adam said quickly.

 

He wanted to spin around and yell at Adam, to tell him how he was a failure and he was everything a parent _shouldn’t_ be. But, he kept that to himself and just kept walking until he found himself looking out the sliding glass door in the back. A real sliding glass door; it was a luxury he’d only been able to dream of. There was a tall fence and a large backyard and, Dean was fairly certain, that was a fucking _pool_ also in the back.

 

“Dean,” Cain said as he went to join him, his hand pressing into his lower back. “Adam is right, you know.”

 

“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head.

 

“This is why I believe you need help.”

 

“Why?”

 

Cain sighed, rubbing his back in small circles. “Because you believe you don’t deserve your own room, because you’re exhausted, because you think they don’t need you. They love you and they need you.”

 

“They got a funny way of showin’ it,” he growled. He was bitter, that much was easy to tell, but he didn’t want to be. The kids were just _kids_ ; they weren’t perfect, and God knew he wasn’t either. None of them were.

 

“Everyone is stressed and tired and needing a break,” Cain said slowly. “Dean, I know you don’t like charity and I know you don’t like to ask for help, but I’m going to tell you to think of Adam, Claire, Sam, and Jesse-.”

 

“I _always_ think of them!” He spun around and glared at Cain. “Don’t you fucking insinuate that I don’t.”

 

Dean turned his eyes on where Jesse, Sam, and Adam were all standing. He didn’t like seeing Sam so beat up and he didn’t like to see Jesse so afraid and he didn’t like to see Adam so fucking lost. He turned away again, pressing his forehead to the glass.

 

“I know you do,” Cain whispered to him.

 

Dean took a deep breath and slowly let his shoulders relax. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll take the house.”

 

“Really?” Adam asked.

 

“Yeah,” he sighed.

 

“Hear that Jesse, we’re gonna have this awesome house!”

  
Dean shut his eyes and silently wished someone would come along and blow him away. It would be easier on all of them in the long run.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Claire came home three weeks after she was admitted to the hospital. By the time she was able to come home, they’d already moved to the new house and started to settle in. Dean was still distant, Sam was just as bad, and Jesse played alone in his room.

 

He didn’t like feeling like the only member of the family who still wanted to engage as a family. Adam had grown up with his mom and John had been a good dad to him for a while; he’d taken him to a baseball game and had shown him how to tie sailor knots and other weird nature things. But then, his mother had died and John had turned into a drunk, which had left him without a family for a while. Until, he’d found John and Dean; Dean had taken him in, and even though at first he’d resisted their family dynamic, he’d grown to like the Winchesters.

 

He liked Dean. He liked Sam and Claire and Jesse. They were a good bunch, broken, but good. But with everyone so quiet and distant and staying in their corners of the house, Adam found himself spending more and more time with Michael. He gave Michael head during lunch, he let Michael fuck him after school, and a lot of the time he snuck out at night to make his way to Michael’s house now that lived on the same side of town.

 

In fact, he was sitting in Michael’s living room while Michael made them dinner. He liked Michael’s TV because it was big and he had every channel imaginable. He’d been watching porn most of the day, since he couldn’t just watch porn at home. He was hoping Cain would start buying them gifts too, like computers and tablets and the things they’d gone without for years.

 

Not that he didn’t like the cellphone, because it was definitely _awesome_. He could text his friends, surf the internet, play games, listen to music; it was everything he’d ever wanted. Except, it wasn’t a laptop and while he didn’t mind sharing Sam’s, it would be _so_ much better if they could all have their own.

 

“Bon appetit,” Michael said as he appeared with two plates full of some type of pasta dish in hand. “Looks good, right?”

 

Adam nodded as he accepted the dish and eagerly began to spoon it into his mouth, despite how hot it was. “Fuck-.”

 

“Slow down,” Michael laughed as he sat to blow on his fork. “Don’t want you burning your tongue.”

 

“Shorry,” he said around his too hot mouthful, trying to get it all down. “Didn’t mean to, itsh justh gooth.”

 

Michael chuckled and handed him a glass of wine. He drank _wine_ now, because Michael was sophisticated, and he wanted a glass too. At first, he hadn’t liked it, but then they’d ended up tipsy together, which had led to making out, which led to sex, which led to cuddling. It was a good time all around.

 

“Thanks for letting me stay over,” he said after he finished his first sip.

 

“You’re always welcome,” Michael replied with a smile. “I like having you here.”

 

“Well, I like being here. Better than being at home.” Adam rolled his eyes and stuffed more pasta into his mouth. He didn’t talk about his home life to anyone, especially not Michael, but it was all coming out.

 

“Why don’t you like being at home?” Michael asked, suddenly curious. Mr. Stoic and Reserved was suddenly interested in his life.

 

“Because it sucks,” he spat angrily. “Dean’s all cold and Sam’s all quiet and Jesse just plays by himself and poor Claire has _no_ idea what she came home to. It all just _sucks_. It’s our fault, too… It’s our fault Dean’s this way and I hate it.”

 

Michael set aside his dinner to focus on him fully. “I’m sorry,” he said, and he actually sounded apologetic. “Can I do anything for you?”

 

Adam shrugged. “I dunno,” he muttered. “Probably not. Just you letting me be here is good.”

 

“Alright.”

 

When some girl began to moan _Daddy_ over and over again, it was then Adam remembered he’d been watching porn. He blushed and jumped to change the channel, which made Michael laugh. “Shut up,” he muttered, his cheeks red hot.

 

“Hey, nothing wrong with porn,” Michael said with a shrug. “I watch it all the time.”

 

“What’s your favorite kind to watch?” Adam asked, his hand on the remote, but he hadn’t yet changed the channel.

 

“I’m pretty open,” Michael replied. “I’m good with anything, as long as someone comes.”

 

Adam smiled and left the stupid movie on, still shoveling pasta into his mouth, until his fork scraped the plate and there was nothing left. “I wanna do that,” he said with a smile.

 

Michael smirked. “You want to, huh?”

 

“Please?”

 

“That requires you to be naked, now doesn’t it?”

 

Adam felt a blush run up the back of his neck as he began to strip out of his clothes, until he was down to his boxers. Michael watched him as he stood and slid the underwear down to reveal his butt. He playfully bent over to show his hole as the boxers slid all the way down to the floor and he stepped out of them, tossing them away from the couch.

 

“Lovely,” Michael commented as Adam used the coffee table to stay bent over. “What a nice boy.”

 

Adam sighed, keeping his ass up for Michael to tease, which he did. Michael’s fingers rubbed along his cheeks and then to the sensitive skin between his hole and balls. A whine escaped his throat and he pressed his forehead to the table top. God, Michael knew how to make him come so fast.

 

“Already going to come, hm?” Michael asked as he began to rub his rim, teasing it but not bothering to slide a finger in. They’d need more lube for that. “I bet I can make you come untouched.”

 

Adam blushed and braced his knees on the table, easing his lower half back to the floor. “I hate you,” he panted.

 

Michael chuckled. “No you don’t.”

 

“Make me come, old man.”

 

“If you keep being impatient, I’ll make you wait longer,” Michael replied haughtily.

 

Adam whined in response. He didn’t want to wait, he wanted to come _now_. “F-fuck you,” he managed to spit out, even as his lips and voice trembled with anticipation.

 

Michael laughed loudly and spanked his hole, making Adam jump and grit his teeth. “No back talk.”

 

“What are you gonna do about it?” he snapped back, which only caused Adam to spank him hard across the ass. He cried out and felt tears burn his eyes. “Shit-.”

 

“Keep back talking, and see where it gets you,” Michael said, his voice low and dark. It made a shiver run up and down his spine.

 

“You gonna p-punish me?” he panted.

 

Michael’s fingers rubbed against his hole and then Adam gasped as the flat of his hand cracked hard down on his ass again. Clearly, Michael was in a disciplining mood, which Adam didn’t mind at all. He liked to be punished and he liked to be used. It was his favorite.

 

“You’re a little shit,” Michael snarled, spanking him again, making his ass bright red. “Always a pain in my ass in class, especially.”

 

Adam moaned and clung to the table, feeling his legs sag slightly. Three more smacks and there was real pain starting to tingle in his spine and cheeks. But, he could take it. He _totally_ could take it; plus, he deserved it.

 

Four more and he was crying.

 

Six more after that and he was starting to feel sick.

 

That was when Michael finally stopped. “Adam,” he said, his voice low and concerned. “Tell me if you’re in real pain.”

 

He shook his head, even though his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and he was feeling nauseous. “I-I’m fine,” he hissed. “Do it again.”

 

“No,” Michael said quietly.

 

Strong arms wrapped around his waist and helped him sit up, even though it made him feel worse. “I’m gonna puke-.”

 

“Breathe, breathe and lay down.” Michael helped him lie on his stomach on the couch cushions. “I’m going to get you some water.”

 

He nodded, shutting his eyes, and bracing through the agony. How he was going to sit in class tomorrow as beyond his imagination. Sneaking out on a Sunday night had been a dumb idea. Quiet clingings and the sink running were the things he focused on, to keep himself from wanting to throw up. He used the couch to soak up some tears as they squeezed out, despite him not wanting them to.

 

“Here you are,” Michael said as he knelt down to help Adam sit up enough to sip some water. He also produced a wet rag, which he began to use to rub Adam’s back, shoulders, and then rest along the back of his neck. “Feel better?”

 

“A little,” he admitted as the cool rag helped make him feel less hot. “I’m sorry- I thought I could do it- I _deserve_ more pain.”

 

“No you don’t,” Michael said firmly. “I shouldn’t have done that- it was my fault. I should know where to draw the line.”

 

He sighed and shut his eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted. “I’m sleepy,” he muttered.

 

“Okay,” Michael replied. “Just sleep and rest.”

 

Adam nodded and then he was asleep faster than he’d ever been before.

 

* * *

 

Going to school felt wrong, what with Claire being home and Dean being a shadow of himself, but Sam went because he knew Stanford wouldn’t understand his personal problems. They only understood test scores and how good he was at writing essays. Besides school feeling _wrong_ , Sam noticed that Ruby and Anna were being _weird_.

 

Especially Anna.

 

The way she acted around him as if she knew something he didn’t and things weren’t quite the same anymore. He decided to confront her between classes before lunch.

 

“Anna,” he said as he walked up to her locker, making her jump and look at him like a scared rabbit. “What’s going on with you?”

 

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

 

“That’s crap and you know it. Something’s bugging you and you won’t tell me what… It’s like you wanna hide something from me. You and Ruby both.”

 

“I’m not _hiding_ anything,” she said angrily, just as Ruby came up to both of them.

 

“Hey whores, what’s up?” she asked, her eyes turning to him pointedly. “You bugging Anna, Winchester?”

 

Sam frowned and shook his head. “No, I just want to know what you guys are hiding from me.”

 

Ruby groaned and rolled her eyes. “ _Nothing_. Gosh, why so paranoid?”

 

“You’ve been acting _weird_ ,” he pointed out.

 

Ruby rolled her eyes again and wrapped her arm around Anna’s shoulders. “Look, Sam, no offense, but your whole family has been having this _huge_ amount of drama, so _yeah_ , we’ve been tiptoeing around you… But only so we don’t upset you on accident or something.”

 

Anna nodded a little, but Sam wasn’t convinced. Not with the way Anna kept looking at Ruby with fear in her eyes. “It’s true,” she added quickly.

 

“So, you’re not still mad at me,” Sam said slowly.

 

“I already told you I forgave you for that, jeeze.” Ruby shook her head and gestured that they should keep walking down the hall. “You coming?”

 

“Yeah,” he said slowly as they headed down the hall together. “Sorry for all the drama.”

 

“It’s not _your_ fault,” Ruby replied. “It’s everyone else’s fault. Like, those assholes all picking on Claire? What the _fuck_. If she’d told me, I would have beat the fuck out all of them.”

 

Sam smiled a little. Ruby was still Ruby, Anna was just being weird. Maybe she was just nervous about their midterms coming up and Christmas and all of that other crap.

 

“Hey, you coming to the Halloween party next Friday?” Ruby asked him suddenly.

 

Sam blinked and realized he’d completely forgotten it was almost Halloween. Dean’s favorite holiday and his least favorite. It was a stupid holiday that never brought him joy as a kid. It sure as hell didn’t bring him joy _now_ either. Especially since Dean would probably be putting up stupid decorations and buying a silly costume… or at least, he _hoped_ Dean would be in the spirit enough to do those things.

 

“ _Helloooo_ , Sam?” Ruby snapped her fingers in front of his nose a few times.

 

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. “I was just thinking about how I actually hope Dean is in the mood to be all cheesy on Halloween.”

 

“ _Wow_ ,” Ruby said as her eyebrows went up. “Man, he must be _really_ bad if you’re wanting him to play Monster Mash thirty times and dress up like Count Dracula.”

 

“I know,” Sam muttered with a sigh. “He _is_ really bad… but, uh, yeah I guess I can go to the party next weekend. As long as you don’t expect me to dress up.”

 

“Sorry, costumes are _required_ ,” Ruby said. “Right, Anna?”

 

Anna nodded. “Right,” she muttered.

 

Sam frowned, still wondering why she seemed so nervous, like a scared animal. “Anna, are you _sure_ you’re okay?” he asked.

 

“It’s just her nerves,” Ruby replied with a wave of her hand as they paid for their lunches. “Exams and all that crap, all piling up.”

 

“Right,” Anna agreed.

 

Sam frowned, but he followed them anyway. “Is the party at your house, Ruby?”

 

She grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, you _know_ it.”

 

“I’ll be there.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

* * *

  

The hospital felt different now that she was visiting as someone who wasn’t a patient. She was able to walk through the front doors of her volition and not as someone who was on a stretcher and needing emergency surgery. She took the elevator up to where she’d been in the ICU and let herself in through the doors.

 

It was 3:30PM on Monday afternoon, which meant Benny would be at the desk. Putting a smile on, she walked on up to where he was sitting behind a computer, typing busily. “Hey,” she said, hoping he’d at least look up to see her.

 

Benny glanced up and slowly a smile began to appear on his face. “Well, if it ain’t a girl I don’t wanna see again up here,” he said with a fake stern voice as he stood up to walk around and hug her. “How you doin’?”

 

“I’m okay,” she admitted as she hugged him back. “I just wanted to stop by and see you.”

 

“You back in school?” he asked as he began to walk her back out of the wing toward the hall with the elevators. Probably so they didn’t disturb the other patients, she figured.

 

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “It sucks, but we got a new house, it’s really nice. Because of Dean’s… boyfriend or whatever.” She shrugged and looked up at him with another smile. “So, I didn’t just come here to like say hey.”

 

“Yeah?” Benny leaned against the wall, arms folded. “I figured as much. What is it you want?”

 

“ _Well_ , I was thinking, since you helped me so much here… I could maybe get a number to call you- you know. In case, I want to talk to you or something.” She shrugged and tried to play it as smoothly as she could. Men were stupid anyway, she figured he’d fall for it without a hitch.

 

“My number?” he repeated back at her, his eyebrows raising. “You think that’s appropriate?”

 

“It’s not like we’re calling each other all the time, I think it’d just be _nice_ to know that I _could_ call you.” Claire looked up at him and tried to look as sad and innocent as possible. “Please?”

 

Benny glanced all around the room before nodding and plucking a pen from his pocket to write it on her palm. “Now, you call when you need to, but know that I am workin’ most of the time.”

 

“I got it.” She smiled at the number written in her skin. He didn’t have the nicest handwriting, but she could still make it out. “Thanks, Benny.”

 

“Don’t go tellin’ people either,” he said. “I don’t wanna lose my license or somethin’.”

 

She nodded seriously. “I won’t, I swear. Thanks.” Throwing her arms around him in a quick hug, Claire dashed back over to the elevators and once inside, she put Benny’s number into her phone in a hurry. Once she was back outside, Claire took her time in walking back to the bus stop, glad that the new house allowed her to ride the old people bus, which meant she didn’t have to see homeless men masturbating or have other men verbally harass her for blowjobs.

 

She took a seat at the shelter and debated on what to text Benny first. _Duh, tell him it’s you_.

 

**-hey benny it’s claire :-) hope you have a good day**

 

She didn’t expect to hear back, but then her phone buzzed and she glanced down with a huge smile.

 

_-glad to know you’re ok :) stay strong, claire_

 

**-i will! thank you so much for being my friend at the hospital, you made it less scary. i owe you <3 **

 

_-you don’t owe me nothin_

 

Claire felt her heart soar as she glanced up to see the bus pull up in front of the shelter. She even smiled at the driver and sat up front, hoping Benny would keep texting her if she kept texting him. He was _perfect_ ; not only was he hot, but he was nice and she knew he could cook, because she’d heard other nurses bragging about how good his jambalaya tasted.

 

**\- i heard you make good jambalaya is that true?**

 

_-haha was Angie talkin about me again? i’m alright_

 

**-i just heard some nurses saying you make good food**

 

_-well, maybe i’ll cook for you sometime. invite you and your family over_

 

Claire rolled her eyes and glowered at her phone. She didn’t _want_ Dean  & Co. to go see Benny, too. Dean would just tell her Benny was too old for her (like he could even talk), and the boys would just be embarrassing her the whole time.

 

**-i doubt they’d want to come, but i would!**

 

_-well, idk how Andrea would feel about that, but maybe_

 

**-who’s that?**

 

Claire frowned as she stared at the name of some unknown woman: _Andrea_. Who the hell was Andrea and why hadn’t she heard her name before?

 

_-my wife_

 

Wife.

Benny was _married_?

 

She’d never seen a ring on his finger. A mixture of disappointment and rage made her stomach hurt and she glared at her phone like it was the reason to blame. Why did the man she figured would treat her right and _good_ have to be fucking _married_? Why did she get nothing good in her life?

 

**-oh**

 

That was all she could say as they reached her stop and was walking off the bus and off toward their new housing development. It felt strange to live in a place called _Ocean Cliffs_ , since there was not an ocean around them _and_ they were now a part of the white, suburban, cookie-cutter housing people. It was almost too cliche, but the house was nice and large enough to fit them all, plus company, comfortably.

 

She came to their street, which was called _Anchor Avenue_ , and made her way to the house, which dark inside from what she could see. When she let herself into the house, it was just as quiet on the inside as it looked on the outside. The only audible sound being the muffled TV from the living room, where Jesse was probably watching cartoons.

 

She glanced up the staircase to strain her ears and listen for signs of life, but gave up, instead walking down the hall to find Jesse, Sam, and Adam all piled on the new couch that had been bought for the house. In fact, all of their furniture and stuff was new; Cain had taken them on a shopping trip. All except Dean; he’d stayed in his room.

 

“Hey,” she said slowly as her backpack slipped to the floor. “What’s up?”

 

“Hey, Claire,” Adam said, his eyes still glued to the TV. None of them made a move to do anything other than watch the cartoon.

 

“Where’s Dean?” she asked.

 

“Where do you think?” Adam replied.

 

She felt her shoulders slump and before she could think about it twice, Claire found herself going upstairs to knock on the master bedroom’s door. There was no noise or sound coming from the other side, so she pushed the door open to at least check on him. Dean’s room was mostly empty, save for the bed Cain had bought for him and a dresser.

 

There was a Dean sized lump under a few blankets, and Claire gingerly walked over to sink down on the floor next to him. “Dean?”

 

Dean’s eyes slowly opened and she saw they were dead and empty inside. He didn’t look like the Dean she knew and not just because he needed to shave.

 

“Are you okay?” she whispered, but he didn’t reply. “We should go out tonight. Go bowling or something fun.”

 

“Tired,” Dean muttered.

 

“Well, it’d be a good way to get up and moving, yeah? You’ll feel better if you eat or do something physical.”

 

“Tired.”

 

She sighed and felt tears fill her eyes. “I know,” she whispered brokenly before leaning up to kiss his cheek and forehead. The tears fell faster the more she thought on how empty and sad Dean must be feeling, but before she could sob all over him, she fled his room and rushed to her own.

 

The door shut firmly behind, Claire dug out her phone and scrolled through the contacts to find the number. It rang twice before he answered. “You need to come over,” she said shakily. “Please.”

 

“I’m going to Dean’s, I hope you don’t mind.”

 

Castiel glanced up slowly from his book to see Cain standing near the door, coat on, clearly ready to leave. He wanted to pout and glare, because _of course_ Cain was running off to be with Dean. It wasn’t surprising in the slightest.

 

“You’re upset,” Cain said, as if he could read minds, and maybe he could. Castiel wouldn’t put it past him.

 

“Well, you’re _always_ with Dean,” Castiel whined. “I like Dean. How come I don’t get invited to be with Dean?”

 

“Because Dean’s family is not aware of you,” Cain replied slowly. “Per Dean’s request.”

 

He rolled his eyes and glared back down on his book. Being a dirty little secret had not been what he’d wanted. “Oh.”

 

“I will make it up to you.”

 

“Whatever. Can I order food, then?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Cool.” Castiel set his book aside and stood to walk over to grab the apartment phone. He’d thought it strange that Cain still had a landline, but he supposed the old man was old fashioned. “ _Bye_.”

 

“Goodbye, Castiel.”

 

He listened to the door opening and closing, before picking up the phone to order a pizza, breadsticks, dessert, and a drink. If Cain was going to leave him for the evening, he was going to put a dent in his credit card. It was only fair. He hadn’t even been with Cain _that_ long, but he felt comfortable around him. Cain made sure he was happy, except for when he ran off to be with Dean, which was too often in Cas’ opinion.

 

Sharing wasn’t even the problem; Dean had come first, so he didn’t mind that Dean wanted to be with Cain. Sharing was caring, in Castiel’s mind, but Dean clearly didn’t _want_ to share. That was the problem.

 

Part of him wondered if he should leave Cain behind and find someone else, but if he left Cain’s protection, he would have to deal with Abaddon and he _didn’t_ want to deal with Abaddon. She’d not come looking for him, yet, but Cain was ready to deal with her when she did. _If_ she did; he could be replaced easily and it wasn’t as if Cain was selling his body on the street in competition.

 

Castiel huffed and went to sit on the couch and glare at the TV.

 

At least Cain had almost every channel and he could buy whatever movie he wanted off of the pay-per-view. As long as he didn’t _abuse_ the privilege, which he didn’t, since he wouldn’t dare bite the hand that fed him. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t _lonely_.

 

Castiel sighed and stared angrily at the television, waiting for his pizza. Maybe he would go out after the pizza and enjoy himself. Hook up with someone. Better than spending the night alone.

 

* * *

 

Dean shuddered awake when he felt the blanket being pulled off of his body. Rolling back a little, Dean looked up to see Cain standing over him. “What?” he gasped, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

 

“You should get up,” Cain said, even reaching to help him sit up. It was slow, but eventually he was able to do it. “Good.”

 

Dean frowned and looked up at Cain, wondering who had called him. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Claire called me. She was upset. She said I needed to come over to see you.”

 

Dean flinched and rubbed his jaw; it was full of hair and God did he need to shave. When was the last time he’d shaved? Hell, when was the last time he’d _showered_? “Sorry about that,” he muttered. “Kids can’t mind their own damn business.”

 

“Come on,” Cain replied, one hand on his arm and the other around his shoulders to help him up out of bed. “Let’s get you into the bath. The kids want to go bowling, I told them we could go, but that includes you.”

 

Dean frowned and he felt a protest rise behind his lips, but he held his tongue. If Cain said the kids could go, including him, then they would go hell or high water. “I don’t wanna go out,” he mumbled as Cain began to strip him of his old clothes. As soon as he was naked, he felt a blush fill his face and travel down to his navel; when was the last time he’d been naked in front of the old man?

 

“You’ve lost weight,” Cain commented. Dean glanced up at Cain’s face and saw that his brows were together, but not in anger, he looked concerned.

 

“I haven’t been hungry.”

 

“Well, you need to eat.” Cain cupped his face and Dean eagerly pressed back into his touch.

 

“I’m _sorry_ ,” he whispered shakily, before launching and pressing himself into Cain’s arms. His own wrapped around Cain’s upper body as tightly as he could make them. He clung to Cain like a lifeline, because God knew he needed it.

 

“Shhh,” Cain muttered, his hands reaching up to pet the back of his head. “You’re standing up, you’re _here_. That’s better than being back in bed. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, dressed in clean clothes, and then we can go out, alright?”

 

He nodded tiredly, but he had no desire to pull away from Cain. Holding on for longer than necessary, Dean eventually disentangled himself so Cain could start up the bath. When was the last time he’d had a bath and not a cold shower? The house was full of luxuries he’d never even dreamed of, but it was also  a gift that he feared would one day be taken from him.

 

“Cain.”

 

“Yes?” Cain asked as he poured some bubble bath into the water, just enough to help soften Dean’s skin.

 

“Promise me something.” Dean gulped and when Cain nodded, he continued, “Promise me you won’t take away this house even if something were to happen to me or to us. I can’t let the kids get used to this if it can be revoked.”

 

Cain stared at him for a moment in silence, before dropping his eyes back to the filling tub. “Are you breaking up with me, Dean?”

 

“What- _No_!” Dean jumped in alarm. “God, no-. I just… I _know_ what it’s like to be with me and most people _leave_ eventually, Cain. I’m not promising myself anything.”

 

“I have no intention of leaving,” Cain said slowly as he offered his hand and helped Dean into the water. “Dean, I love you and your family.”

 

The words were enough to knock him on his ass, and he would have fallen down if he hadn’t already been sitting in the tub. He stared up at Cain in shock. “I’m sorry?” he gasped.

 

“I said I love you and your family,” Cain repeated back slowly. “It is alright if you cannot return the words.”

 

_I love you_ , had never been big in the Winchester Dictionary. Not with him, not with his father, not with anyone. “Are you serious?” he whispered.

 

Cain nodded. “Yes.”

 

“Holy shit-I-... I don’t know what to say.”

 

Cain nodded, running a hand lightly over his hair. “You don’t have to say anything, Dean.”

 

“But I _should_!” Everyone knew _I love you’s_ were usually meant to be returned. “God, I’m awful- I can’t-.”

 

Cain leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. “I do not expect you to say anything back Dean, not until you are ready.”

 

“What if I’m never ready?” he whispered.

 

“Then I will always remind you of my love for you.”

 

Tears welled in his eyes and Dean nodded, leaning back into the kiss. “I’m sorry I’m a failure.”

 

“You’re _not_. The only way you fail, Dean, is if you don’t start taking care of yourself. Your children need you. They’re downstairs worried about you and they want you to get better. There is a therapist I believe who would be good for you. Will you go see him?”

 

Dean gulped and tried not to roll his eyes. Therapy was stupid and pointless to him, but he supposed if Cain _really_ thought it would help. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

 

“Good. Now, wash up. I’ll be downstairs. Take your time.”

 

“Hey.” Dean reached and grabbed onto Cain’s wrist, bringing the man’s hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “Stay the night tonight.”

 

Cain half smiled and nodded. “If you want.”

 

“I do.”

 

“Alright. I have to call Castiel.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Dean slowly let go of Cain’s hand and watched him leave, before sinking into the water to enjoy it’s bubbly warmth. _You can do this_ , he told himself forcefully. _You can be normal_.

 

He sighed as soon as Cain was gone, he felt the dark cloud hover and taint his bathwater black. It would easy to slip under and not come back up.

 

* * *

 

 

Shopping with the cash Cain always left for him was way more fun when tipsy than when sober, Castiel was quick to find as he giggled and went through the clothes in the store. He wasn’t even sure where he’d ended up, but going out had been a good idea. He was going through clothes that were technically too big for him, but they were all pretty colors and the pretty colors were making him laugh harder.

 

He was also the only person in the whole store except for a random guy and the workers.

 

Castiel jumped when his phone began to buzz.

 

_CAIN CALLING_

 

“ _Yeah_?” he giggled into the receiver.

 

“Castiel?”

 

“Yes?” He snorted and laughed at the sound of his own name. “My name is so dumb.”

 

“I-... Are you intoxicated?” Cain asked.

 

“ _Intoxicated_ ,” Castiel giggled. “A _little_. I found the vodka in your fridge.”

 

Cain sighed, as if he were disappointed. Maybe he was disappointed. Uh oh- was Daddy disappointed in him? “I was going to stay with Dean tonight, but if you are drunk, I will come find you. Where are you?”

 

“Oh, don’t worry about it-.” Castiel cut off as the guy who had been in the store with him began to walk up to him. He frowned and tried to force his brain to be alert. It wasn’t easy. “Hi?”

 

“You wanna have a good time?” the man asked in a gruff voice.

 

“Maybe. Who are _you_?”

 

“Castiel,” Cain said, but Cas pulled the phone away from his ear.

 

“Don’t really matter who I am, darlin’, you wanna have a good time or not?”

 

Castiel smiled and nodded, returning to his phone. “I gotta go. Bye.” He hung up, as Cain continued to protest. “I’m Cas,” he said to the stranger.

 

“I know who you are. I recognize you from a few weeks ago.”

 

Castiel blushed. “Look, I don’t do that anymore-.”

 

“That’s okay, darlin’, doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time together, right?”

 

He smiled a little. “Right.” If Cain didn’t want to pay attention to him, then this stranger would. Castiel took the man’s hand and followed him out of the store.

 

* * *

 

He sucked at bowling.

 

He sucked at bowling so much that Sam kept teasing him about having to put up the bumper lanes. At first, Dean had found it funny too, because it was guaranteed he’d get better along the way. But he hadn’t gotten any better and he was still stuck with the score of one.

 

_One._

 

One stupid fucking end pin. Everything else had been gutter balls. Dean stood off to the side, watching everyone else have a good time. Sam and Adam exchanged a high five, Claire was talking to some guy she’d met, and Jesse was keeping Cain enraptured in whatever nine year olds talked about for hours. It was almost his turn, but he didn’t even want to play anymore. It wasn’t as fun when you were losing.

 

“Dean,” Cain said, drawing him out of his thoughts. “You’re up.”

 

“I don’t want to play,” he replied stubbornly. “I suck.”

 

“You can’t just _quit_ ,” Sam said. “C’mon Dean, you can do it.”

 

“I can’t.” He shook his head and walked away. Maybe he’d hide out in the bathroom the rest of the night. He power walked to the bathroom, because he was sure Cain would be right after him and he attempted to shut the handicap stall before Cain caught him, but it only result in him smashing Cain’s hand between the door and the stall.

 

He jumped and blushed. “Cain-.”

 

Cain rubbed his hand, but didn’t make any other mentions to pain. Not even a flinch. “No more running away, Dean.”

 

“Why not?” he spat back, feeling angry all of a sudden. Why did everyone else get to take their time and he had to keep on being strong. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t _easy_ to just move on and be happy. “Why do I have to pretend to enjoy a game I suck at? Why can’t I quit?”

 

“Because the kids want you there,” Cain replied.

 

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to face the wall. “No one asks me what _I_ want.”

 

“What do _you_ want?”

 

He huffed and folded his arms over his chest. What _did_ he want? Other than for the depression to kick the bucket or to be a better bowler? “I want to be left the hell alone,” he snapped coldly.

 

“I can’t do that.”

 

“ _Why_ not?”

 

Cain gripped his shoulder and spun him around, making him startle by the sudden forceful act. “Because those children out there are counting on you and I’m the only one who can seem to knock sense into your skull,” Cain hissed.

 

The sudden urge to spit in Cain’s face was almost overpowering. “Well, I didn’t _ask_ you to be with me,” he snapped. “In fact, I tried to get you the hell away from us, but you just kept on truckin’! So, if you don’t like how I act and how I run this family, then you can just go suck a goddamn dick.”

 

The words came out louder than he’d anticipated and the whole room echoed with his anger. They both stood still and glaring at one another; the tension was so thick, Dean was certain the oxygen levels had gone down a bit. It was hard to breathe - it was all so fucking stifling.

 

“If you wish to go home, then tell me,” Cain said, his voice back to its quiet and terrifying calm.

 

“I _wish_ for you to get your fucking hands off me and to leave me the fuck alone!” Dean shoved Cain back off of him; he pushed so hard, Cain fell back against the door, which only made him lose his balance further and he eventually landed on his ass on the floor, after smacking the back of his head on a sink.

 

The stillness in the room remained and Dean felt his heart racing and his breath growing labored. It took him a moment to realize what he’d done, before finally rushing over to check on him. “Cain-.”

 

“Don’t,” Cain replied firmly, which made him pull back. Moving slowly, Cain touched the back of his head, but his hand came away clean.

 

Dean knelt off the side, chewing on his lip in worry. “I’m sorry-.”

 

“Don’t.” Cain held up his hand to stop him, and then he was carefully pulling himself upright. Dean remained on his knees on the floor, attempting to appear less threatening. Cain glanced down at him once, and Dean could see he was hurt and angry, before walking out. He flinched and carefully stood up as well, following like a whipped dog.

 

“Cain, please,” Dean called as he followed him back to the group.

 

“Everything okay?” Adam asked.

 

Cain said nothing, except to pick up his coat. Dean rushed forward and grabbed onto his arm. The look on Cain’s face made him flinch, but Dean didn’t let go of the touch.

 

“Dean,” Cain said, his voice low and full of warning.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, just so Cain could hear him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I’m _sorry_ I’m taking it out on you. It’s not fair. I want you to stay the night with me. Please.”

 

“Are we leaving?” Claire asked and Dean glanced back at her disappointment face.

 

“No,” he said quickly, squeezing Cain’s arm, and hoping he got the message. It wasn’t like Cain to disappoint the kids. “Right, Cain?”

 

He watched as Cain looked back at the kids and slowly he relinquished his grip on his coat. “I’m sitting out,” he said as he went to sit, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“Me too,” Dean said. “I’m awful at it, you guys play.”

 

The kids shrugged and were quick to return to the game, arguing over who would get Cain’s high score and who would get Dean’s measly one. Ignoring them, Dean sank down next to Cain, feeling the cold disconnect immediately.

 

“You got every right to be pissed at me,” he said. “Are you okay? I mean you hit your head-.”

 

“I feel alright,” Cain replied quietly, his gaze going straight ahead at the game and not at him even a little.

 

“Please don’t be mad,” he whispered, rubbing Cain’s arm in hopes to win the old man’s affection.

 

Slowly Cain glanced at him and Dean smiled a little. “I know you’re in a bad place right now, but I am only trying to help you.”

 

“I know that.” Dean slowly and tentatively began to press up against Cain’s side. “I’m sorry I pushed you.” When Cain draped his arm over his shoulders, Dean smiled and relaxed, eagerly snuggling him.

 

“I forgive you,” Cain muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair.

 

Dean squeezed Cain’s side and nuzzled along his chest. It was nice to sit and be a normal couple. It was nice to be _out_ and away from his bedroom. It was even nicer to see the kids all smiling, laughing, and fighting over bowling scores. It was almost as if they were a normal family.

 

“Cain?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I love you too,” he whispered.

 

Cain gave him a little squeeze and Dean felt himself smiling.

 

* * *

 

Castiel found himself walking down a dark alley, tears streaming down his face, and he was bleeding from both knees and his nose.

 

He hadn’t had a good time.

 

He’d never even gotten the name of the man who had beat him up. Castiel shuddered and almost tripped over some trash as he stumbled out of the alley and tried to figure out where he was in town. The bastard who had wanted to “have a good time” with him had driven him off somewhere he didn’t even know, proceeded to sexually assault him, and then beat him up when he’d said _no_.

 

Now, he was all alone, cold, and his clothes were ripped. His phone had been left behind with the other stuff he’d left in the john’s car. There had to be someone willing to give him change for a payphone. Wiping the tears off of his face, Castiel stumbled toward a group of hookers he recognized. They were part of Abaddon’s group.

 

“Hey,” he said as he walked up, making them frown as they glanced over his way. “Do you guys have change?”

 

“ _Castiel_?” one of them said in completely disbelief. He recognized her as Meg. “The hell you doing here?”

 

“I need change,” he said, trying not to cry again. “Please tell me you have some.”

 

“No,” Meg said with a slight shrug. “Sorry- Oh shit. I’d take off if I were you.”

 

Castiel frowned as he glanced to where Meg was staring. Alastair was walking over to them, a sickening grin on his face. The bastard made his skin crawl.

 

“Castiel,” came Alastair’s drawl with a smirk. “The little lamb coming back to his flock?”

 

“I’m leaving,” Castiel snapped.

 

Alastair grasped onto his arm. “Not tonight, little angel.”

 

“Wait-. Meg!” Castiel screamed at her as Alastair dragged him right back into the alleyway he’d just left. “Meg!”

 

Alastair rolled his eyes. “Oh, _shut up_ ,” he snarled before he shoved Castiel back against the wall and then darkness.

 

* * *

  

_“A body has been found on the corner of 34th and 23rd street this morning. He has yet to be identified, but the police believe foul play was involved. We will continue to cover this story as it unfolds.”_

 

Dean frowned as he walked into the living room, where Jesse was glued to the TV. “The fuck you watching?” he asked, before taking the controller to change the channel. “Watch some fuckin’ cartoons, man.”

 

“Okay,” Jesse replied.

 

Rolling his eyes, Dean made his way to the kitchen to scratch private places and then dig around for breakfast. Cain was still asleep and Dean had slept so damn much for weeks that he felt awake and ready to make some eggs, bacon, and pancakes for everyone. It was the weekend after all.

 

“Dean,” Cain said as he came in, making him jerk. “I apologize, but I must leave.”

 

“Why?” Dean asked, surprised seeing Cain looking so distressed and pale.

 

“It’s Castiel,” he said quietly. “He hasn’t answered the phone and I’m not sure where he is.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” Dean nodded. “You want help looking for him?”

 

“No, no I’ll go. I’ll call you when I find out more.”

 

“Sure.” Dean leaned over and pressed a kiss to Cain’s cheek. “See you.”

 

Cain didn’t reply before leaving, just heading out as quickly as he’d shown up. Dean shrugged to himself and returned to cracking eggs into a bowl.

 

 


End file.
